I dreamt of him last night which was weird. I normally don’t, unless I’m back home at the folks’. Besides it’s been years since I have. Well, maybe not years but certainly in a very long time. Maybe it was because I took his blanket out of storage for laundering. Maybe it was because I’d been reading Dedication, a book which brought back memories of teenage crushes and hurts.
In that strange way dreams and reality can merge, I knew he was dead in real life but in the dream he hugged me and said hello. I grinned. It’d been so long. He was thinner. He asked about my life. I told him everything that happened since 1998. I’m glad you’ve moved on he said. At that moment I started crying and asked why he had to go and die and leave me. Like always, that’s the point where I bolt upright in bed and realise it was just a dream. He’s still dead. And I’ve moved on.