(no subject)
Stress dreams, brought on by the strains and oddities of this cloistered season.
Back in 2011 I wrote of finding out, quite by chance, that my first serious boyfriend had died some years before. https://marielaf.livejournal.com/54727.html
I dreamed of him this morning. He looked nearly as young as when I last actually saw him, but in the dream neither of us was quite that young, or quite as old as we are (or would be) now. We were helping someone - possibly a relative? an older woman, at any rate) clear out a garage. We finished, and we hugged before he walked away to his car.
If I close my eyes now, this minute, hours since the dream ended, I can remember how it felt to have him in my arms, and to be in his. I remember the kiss he brushed on my cheek.
I remember him walking away.
I didn't think, after all these years, that it could hurt quite so badly.