I dreamt about you last night. You were still alive, and I saw you at the tattoo parlor in Oakland. You looked like you had before the transplant, but super healthy. I asked you how you were still alive, and you told me you had just moved. I cried while I got tattooed; grief and relief filling my chest with each breath.
I dreamt about you last night. You still hated me and played the victim, even though we never spoke, as I saw you at the Civic Center MUNI station. You looked good, even though your hair was longer than I like it, and you had lost a lot of weight in a passive aggressive kind of way. You ignored me while reading a book about crime and drama, like you like in your daily life. I hardly noticed you, till you were almost gone, and I felt pretty much as destroyed as I feel every moment anyway.
I dreamt about you last night. You weren't afraid to hang out with me in real life, and I saw you in a public yet private venue. It was one of those dream-only spaces that was both completely out and completely in at the same time. We fell onto a bed and made out in the most intense connection I've ever felt. I wasn't afraid, despite the fact that I am utterly aware of the fact that you run away for 4 days to 1 week every time I ask you to be with me for real.
It felt good, despite it all.
I dreamt of you last night, despite the complete distance between us-- physical, corporeal, emotional, or mental... in spirit, we were together, trying desperately to make amends in the space of our souls and the here but never quick here time/space continuum of the dream world.
I dreamt of you last night.