It isn’t often that my dreams resemble real life. When I sleep, my mind flashes odds and ends of the day before my eyes, but never in any sensible way or order. It never makes sense and is generally far from realistic. I’ve come to a point where a majority of my dreams are lucid – I’m aware that I’m dreaming when it happens. So more than nine times out of ten, I wake up laughing, just knowing how ridiculous my dreams really are. They’re enjoyable, they’re fun or at least funny, and they’re something I regularly look forward to sharing. Today was absolutely nothing like that.
I woke up to about three and a half seconds of incredible bliss. Three and a half seconds before I realized where I was and who wasn’t there and what hadn’t happened. Reality tore my heart from my sleepy hands and sent it to shatter through the window into the sunrise. I tried to rub the sleep and tears out of my eyes, but one wouldn’t stop. Yes, I’ve had this happen before, but every time I find myself wailing, asking, how can it be that real and not be real?!
Last night, my cruel subconscious managed to build a more realistic and relevant scenario than it ever had before. Everyone was familiar. We were back where we spent most of our time together. It could have been a flashback to three years ago, and I wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. I had no idea I was asleep in my bed. In my mind, I was back there in every way. Everything made perfect sense, and I was smiling just like I always had. That’s when something out-of-the-ordinary happened. If it had been a flashback, you forgot the script.
You said you wanted me too.