Dear A, Part Three

Dear A,

    I dreamt of us last night. It was the type of dream that seems so real, so tangible, that you wake up confused and disoriented. For a few blissful seconds I forgot everything that had happened. I forgot that you were no longer here.

    It’s the first time in a long time that I’ve had an actual dream, as opposed to the consistent nightmares that creep into the night, into my mind. I’ve gotten used to the nightmares, as much as anyone can really get used to such a thing. It’s the type of complacent acceptance that comes with having no other choice. People are either forced to accept what they cannot change, or live in subsequent misery.

    I dreamt of an ordinary day, shared between us. It was so completely normal which only enhanced my desire for it to be true. Those were my favorite days, the ones where no fuss was made, no thrill was searched for. Just complete and utter happiness at being able to share the day. The type of contentment that you cannot chase after, you just have to let it happen.

    In my dream, we woke up to the sunlight filling the room. The light bouncing off the crystals in the chandelier in the center of the room. Casting glimmers of light and shine across the bed and walls, across my arms and your back.

    You turned to me and smiled.

    “What would you like to do today?”
   
    “Let’s go for a walk, and head to the farmers market. We can pick up breakfast and breathe in some fresh air.”

    We got dressed. It was slightly chilly so I paired a grey knee length dress with black tights and flats. Threw on my favorite quilted leather jacket, and my purse.

    You were dressed in your standard uniform of fitted dark wash jeans, sweater, and loafers.
    We headed out, we grabbed coffee on our way to the market. Since we both thought it better to have a bit of caffeine in our systems for the walk. You locked hands with me.

    “Why are your hands always so cold?”

    I giggled. “Haven’t you gotten used to them by now? We’re the perfect match; my hands are always cold, yours are always more than warm. You keep me warm.” I grinned at you, daring you to disagree.

    You laughed and shook your head. “Yeah, yeah. You’re just using me for my warm hands.”

    “You caught me! How did you ever find out?”

    We both laughed and you held my hand tighter.

    That was always one of my favorite things, how no matter what, you always held my hand. Even if we were in the middle of an argument, or just having fun, or just watching television at home, your fingers would find mine and encase my hand in yours.

    I woke up from the dream, so happy, and for those few blissful moments, it was as if nothing had ever happened. But that’s almost worse than waking up from the nightmares. The dream filled me with renewed hope that inevitably set to fade away from me. While the nightmares, they merely mimicked what I already felt. They were a reflection of my reality. The truth in my days.

    Sometimes I think that if I try hard enough. That maybe I could change something. I think that if I could just go back in time. If I had said one thing, instead of the other. That maybe you’d still be here. Maybe you would have never left the space beside me. Maybe I wouldn't be walking around feeling like I was missing another part of me.

    I know what you’d say if you read these words. You’d say, “everything happens for a reason, you have to have faith in that.”

    Well my faith has slipped away from me, and any optimism I once had, has left along with you. You were my reminder of the brightness in life, every day. Now your shadow reminds me of the darkness that is all around.


Until next time,

Your B