Last night

you came to visit me in my dreams. We spent the whole day together, but in a group setting, with people I didn't always know. At one point I think we were trying to make a poster for a competition.

At another point, you drew a picture for me. A sketch of something.

And at the end-- I think it had become morning-- I was supposed to take you home, along with my friend Tiff, who was sleeping. So we got ready to go, and while we were waiting for her to wake up and get ready, I took a few pictures of someone with the poster, and then there was a picture of you with a friend, and one of us. Someone helped us take it, but then they went to go check on it, and they turned the camera to show us, and your face was missing.

And you got really confused, because you didn't know why you didn't show up. And all I could do was pull you back and hold you really tight, and I started crying, and you hugged me back and didn't let go, but you were still distracted by the missing face. You didn't know you were dead yet.

I was thinking that I'd have to tell you, after dropping my friend off.

I asked you what was the last thing you remembered, and you didn't know.

So you didn't really know what death was like, because you couldn't remember it.

I began waking up at some point. I tried harder and harder to stay asleep, and at one point we sat down on the couch and I had scribbled down some stuff I needed to ask you. Your mom was there. I waved hi to her, but she couldn't see you, and then I was just talking to myself, so I wanted to move us in order to sound less crazy.

We didn't get to the part where I was supposed to take you home and rehash that night for you.

But the hug felt real. Crying into your shoulder felt real, and you telling me "it's okay" even though you didn't know what "it" was felt real. It was solid.

So... thank you for visiting. I remember thinking it wasn't the 49th day yet, but you were there.

I miss you.