I love the weekend. In fact now I think I live for it. Something to be excited for as long as I don't build up expectations that can't be met. But this weekend was nice. Kinda rainy, kinda wet, sometimes sunny, a little warm, a little cold, a little funny.
Like all good things, the weekend too must come to an end. After 2 cups of coffee, a conversation with my mom, and some 1 AM article-writing, it was time for my head to hit the pillow. With great difficulty (due to the coffee-chugging) I finally fell asleep only to realize that it would last momentarily. Soon after I dozed off, it was time to be visited by a ghost of my past again.
Somewhere I lay in that hazy spot between sleep dreaming and awake reality. My eyes wide open, I saw his head floating just underneath the covers - staring at me, saying nothing. With fear I tried to communicate telepathically - what are you doing here? Why? But nothing. Just that same stare that got to me. In my dreamstate my hand tried to touch his face but instead just went through it, making it blurry. In reality I was in a state of paralysis, my arm unable to move.
I don't know if I actually woke up at any point or just moved on to another dream. But I do wonder if on nights like these he dreams about me too. If our dream versions are transported, and if they ever cross paths on their way to returning to their rightful owners. If they regret and apologize for what they have done and try to right their wrongs.
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