19 July 2006 by Published in: dreams No comments yet

Partial dream in the extended entry, with a little more speculation than usual.

I no longer dream an infinite variation of those harrowing moments in the hospital as Simone died. Instead, I dream that I am looking at photographs of Simone, or that I am telling someone who doesn’t know about her that she was (and that she died).

For some reason, waking from these types of dreams bears me no less tears than the others did, though they are obviously less intense. I keep moving away from the reality of Simone’s existence, replacing her tiny body with photos and words, even in sleep. I don’t know what it means; I wouldn’t be surprised if it were deemed healthy recovery by experts, but I find it quite depressing. I am just a victim of time’s current. I never wanted to leave you, Simone. I would have stood right there next to you, just deceased, forever.


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