So, I had a dream this morning that made me feel completely shattered when I woke up. It made me play back another dream I’d had when he was here too.

It was set in our bedroom (no funny business!). We were laying in bed, facing one another, snuggled under the blanket.

Our conversation went as follows;

M: “Don’t you ever die, please. Just thinking about it hurts me. How do I know what that feels like even?”
H: “Because baby, I’m already gone. You know because you’re already living it.”
M: “But you’re right here. I can touch you and you’re talking to me. See?”
*I move closer so our noses are touching. I can physically feel him in my space.*
H: “I’m only in your dream. If you opened your eyes, you’d be alone and I wouldn’t be laying here with you. At least not physically like I am now.”
M: “That’s right. I remember now. How long have we got?”
H: “About a minute, then you’re alarm will go off and the dogs will bark and I’ll be here but not here like this.”
M: “And then what? I just go about my day without you?”
H: “Yes baby, just like every other day, you go about your day without me. I’m here though, all day everyday. Watching you, laughing with you, crying with you.”
*I snuggle in closer to him. Feeling his breath on my forehead and his warmth on my body.*
M: “I don’t want to wake up. I just want to stay here with you, where you exist.”
H: “I still exist. You’ll be fine.”

**Cue alarm and then tears. Fuck you alarm. I’d woken up laying in exactly the same position as I was in my dream but he wasn’t laying there with me.

I lay there for about 20 minutes going over that conversation in my head.
I’ll be fine? Righto. Thanks babe, easy for you to say.

I had a nightmare a few years ago, when he was still with us.
He had died in an equally traumatic way. I was so distraught that I rang him straight away (he’d left for work at least an hour earlier).

The first words that came out of my mouth were, “PLEASE DON’T EVER DIE!” and then I sat and listened as he promised me he wouldn’t and… that I was a weirdo. That dream had been so real. I’d lost him and even though I was shaken, it had only been a dream and there he was, on the other end of the phone telling me he was fine and he’d call me in an hour during smoko.

When I wake up now, it’s not a dream. I really have lost him and he really isn’t coming back. Talk about fucked up.
When I wake up, I’m alone. The bed is cold on his side and I have to realise he’s not here. Every. Single. Day. Some days I wake up and unconsciously hold my breath, as if doing that will bring him back.

My nightmare came true and now all I’m left with is the dreams.