I haven’t dreamt of Chris much since his passing. I joked with a friend at one point that I was mad at Chris – he promised he’d haunt me and he didn’t even visit me in my dreams. Then I remind myself, it means that he’s at peace. That’s why he doesn’t haunt me. That and he knows that while the idea of it sounds almost nice, I am one of the most jumpy people you’ll meet. So I stuck to asking for visits in dreams.
The only one I vaguely remember, before one early this morning, we were at my childhood home. I remember asking him why he was leaving, him leaning over and calling me ‘silly girl’ and almost kissing me before I woke up. I spent a lot of that day wishing that I hadn’t woken up, just as this morning.
This morning the dream came back to me as I stumbled back to bed. He and I were laying together, his legs tangled in mine and thus pinning me to the bed. It was something we did. His legs were so strong from Wing Tsun. My head was on his chest and i could hear his heartbeat. I think I’m the only person in the world he’d let me call him ‘Tick Tock.’ His heart sounded like the crocodile (Tick Tock) from Peter Pan. Oh how I loved the sound of his heart. While he disliked it, I never knew him before it. So i associated it with his life.
In the dream, we didn’t talk. His arms were holding me tight and he kissed my forehead. i woke up, stumbled to the bathroom, and went back to bed hoping for the dream to continue. It didn’t. Today my heart aches a bit because of it. For however long, I was with him. I am thankful for the moments I do have, such as when I walk into my room and smell him, but I find myself struggling to cope after.
All of this feels like a dream. He always did – because I couldn’t believe I had found someone who loved me unconditionally. Who met me in my mess and helped me dig my way out of it. He used to tell me it could be a dream. That he could’ve remained unconscious from his heart surgery or I could’ve ended up as such due to an abusive relationship I was in.
Sometimes that’s whats hardest. He doesn’t feel real and as time goes on it feels like we were just a dream. Then I beg for this part to be over. There are times i want to forget, if only for a little while, because he’s not here.
I keep on doing this, however. I know that one day the dreams will either cause comfort or I’ll learn to not miss him so much. I am a dreamer with a vivid imagination. He loved that about me. So maybe I shouldn’t wish it away. Just as much as this hurts, I really don’t wish him away or wish to never have met him. If this was all a dream and I’m in the nightmare part, then the good part makes it worth it. He was, is, worth it.