I had
I had that dream again last night
where she’s alive, and he’s around
and you are what I’m looking for
I travel every home I’ve ever had.
Ones so crisp and alive that I forgot they never happened. That this downstairs lit gold with pre-dinner warmth radiating into the surround trees was just a momentary glimpse. We never lived here. This was never our room. We never looked down ten stories to the snowy city streets at night. Never was there a Christmas with a tree out on a cold wooden porch. We never lived these places. So why are we here?
Why do I feel like this? So nostalgic and longing for this place? For who we were in this place? Before I could ever imagine you as anything different. Young. Forever.
Mine. Ours.
And then I wake and remember we never lived those places. I wake and feel relief you are gone but only because of what you became. Dream you is old you. That’s why I feel that way.
The warm nostalgic breezes.
One complete unit.
Not scattered like now.
And she’s alive and back from the moon now, telling me this is what happened. She has the texts saved in her phone and shows them to me over and over again while I cry. But I’m being selfish. She’s only allowed here for the night, and I am keeping her from her grandchildren. Only 12 hours visa and then back to the moon. She relishes the confusion between you and him. Laughs at me when I mourn the wrong one. When I chose which moment in a dream to stay in and it’s with you, back the way things were so long ago- and mid kiss it’s him and he’s here the rest of the dream. The dream I didn’t ask for and that I can’t get out of. No matter how many roads or city streets I go. No matter how hard I try to see your face, his shows up instead.
There’s an hour left in Christmas and she’s laughing that there are no presents for me. There are never presents for me. Not anymore. None of these are my home anymore. There’s nowhere to go anymore. I want to leave and wake up now. But then I leave and wake up now, and no one is there anymore. None of these homes are around anymore. Just daylight and bedsheets. Just a waking nightmare that’s forever now. This is the new forever. The one without you. The one without anyone. And I just want to go back in the one with you. Or with him. I just want to go back to someone.
One hundred stories down
Quarantine fucking with my whole head
2020














