Whenever I rarely dream of my best friend, who passed away over five and a half years ago, it always tends to be placed in a reality where I still think he is alive. Things are well. Things are absolutely normal, but deep-down, in the back of mind, I know the truth. I know that he is no longer alive. It eats at me, that fact, until I realize it. Until it comes to me, at the forefront of my consciousness, and I can deny it no longer.
A couple times where I dreamed of that type of situation, where we were hanging out, like old times, and suddenly I realized he was "alive again" I was so relieved. So very, very happy. I cried. I happily cried to see my friend again. He looked at me as if he was puzzled for my impromptu reaction. But I was so happy to see him, even if it was only for a brief time.
And then I would wake, and reality would hit me once more. I would yet again come to the realization that I am in the world Post-Wiseman. He is gone, and I am forever changed.
But last night was different. Last night, my dream was similar to reality, but... still different. Still strange. Still slightly off-the-mark, like most dreams tend to be. I don't recall my location, my surroundings, or anything else. All I remember was her: His sister. The girl I thought I shared a great, close relationship with. But the relationship, whether it existed or not, didn't matter. All that mattered was the person we both cared about so much. The person we both so badly missed. The person who left a small hole us when he left this world.
The details are a bit foggy, being nearly a full day after the fact, but I do remember the tears in her eyes. I remember the tears in mine as well. And I took her into my arms. We sat together, thinking of him, and we cried. It felt so real, and sadly, I believe that only in my dream could something so tragic, so sad, but so... "touching" in a way could ever really happen. That was something straight out of a movie, I only realize now. Things like that don't happen in the real world. Reality is never so... moving. At least never for me.
But anyway, I'll never forget my best friend. Never, ever, ever. I just wish that I had more dreams where he was still alive and I realized, and cherished the minutes we had together, rather than where I can't even escape the shitty reality I'm stuck in so miserably.
Later, Wiseman. *thumbs up*
