it doesn’t happen much anymore.

My dreams about my Mama are few and far between these days. And sometimes, they’re even welcome–though they always leave me reeling. I don’t dream often–or remember the dreams.

I went back to bed and found myself in this vivid, drawn out fantasia where she was everywhere–and nothing was real. It was blended up. It was her face, but my friend’s story, and she kept going away.

It was the most unnerving dream I’ve had in a long time. I woke up confused, looking for her–which I haven’t in years–then realized that she was never actually here. It’s odd how our sleeping minds blend things up in the exact way that will break our hearts again and again. Now, I realize I’ve had this dream over and over again–but just bits and pieces of it–and I never remembered any of it. But that deja vu feeling doesn’t want to leave.


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