9 years later, I awake one morning to memories of the heartbreakingly real dream you just appeared in.
It's so mysterious to me the way the mind works. I am happy and have a wonderful life. Yet in my dreams and sometimes in waking I see ghosts and I know that somewhere out there, lives go on without me, pieces of my heart I left behind trailing unnoticed in their shadows.
To say I miss you wouldn't be quite accurate. I Loved the time we spent together. The way you made me feel, the friendship and security and honesty of it all. I suppose my heart thinks it might somehow regain those feelings. But my mind knows that the likelihood of there being any place for you in my life now is slim.
You are a vagabond, perpetually moving and society's standards fit you like a wooly, uncomfortable cloak, trying to hang on and failing. I am a pregnant homemaker with a family and a certain future. If we met on the street as I've imagined time and time again, what would you even see in me aside from an overweight breeder you used to know when we were young? In the midst of my probably unrequited fondness for you, what would we even say?
But despite all this, I still dream about you. In my slumber I break your heart in an unavoidable choice between our friendship and my husband, who I know is my almost perfect mate. How arrogant to dream that I have broken you.
I still look, having glanced and seen you twice this year, my eyes scan for you every time I drive downtown. I look, despite knowing that if I saw you I wouldn't stop.
9 years later I carry you with me because I don't know how to let go, my subconscious holds on without explanation and I dream.