lucid daydream

"I really enjoy having dreams, it's a good escape. I think the ones that concern real life problems, those are the nightmares." He was always so assured of how his world worked.

"Hmm." I moved closer and breathed into my mittens. He smiled and took my hands. I rarely spoke, but he would observe me carefully even as he talked.

"In sleep, we rehearse for our worst fears. But I'd argue that nothing imagined can be more awesome or terrifying than what reality offers. The unimaginable is what keeps life interesting." He would always give that silly grin after saying something serious. We stood up and that's when we should have walked onto the bus together.

But there is no bus. His face is mournful and he lets my hands go. He comes behind me and breathes breathes into my neck, even though I should have been wearing a thick scarf. He doesn't touch me or say anything.

"This isn't what I remember," I shiver.

I hear him smiling into my ear when he manages to whisper, "Stay strong sweetheart. This is a nightmare."

I fall forward and wake up, staring at the air and breathing in the ceiling. Realizing that he pushed me, I try to trap the memory of a warm touch between my shoulder blades. The weight of tears rolling back towards my ears is unbearable and I let my chest cave in.

"I think my ears were always a weak spot of mine." The room swallows my sentence and gives me no response.

I curl up into the comforter. Silence pats me gently between sobs and a summer breeze strokes my back.

I did not dream that night.