September 02, 2016|
I dreamt about you. I woke up a few times before my 530 alarm. But the last time I slept before the alarm woke me up, you were in my dreams. Mocking me. Seeing other people. Not seeing me. Maybe not even mocking me. Because you couldn't see me.
I think often of that day in Santa Cruz after your diabetic emergency where you kind of took me to the arcade and we just went around to the different machines and I played them and I talked to you and you just looked at me and you smiled. That's one of my most potent memories and I don't know how you could walk away from that.
I think you thought because I'm struggling, because I'm so utterly fucked up by what's happened to me that I'd stop taking care of you. But that wasn't in the cards. I was always going to protect you, as long as you didnt leave me. But I didn't realize that needing you to protect me would lead to losing you.
I want that moment back and I cling to that memory while you look to your future. I wish you'd look at that moment. I wish you would recall it, really recall it, and remember me. And welcome me back in, and let me know what's been going on, if you've been seeing anyone, so we could move on, so that looking to your future didn't mean leaving me behind.
I'm finally getting a haircut today. I'm looking forward to it. I hope my barber is nice.
In my dream, I used the hair dryer you gave me.
In the morning, I used the air dryers in the gym locker room.