Rehab – Day Eight

by asifemily


I need to pull myself together.  Of course, my whispered plea that I would dream of him wedged itself into my subconscious and whaddya know?  The start was a bit confused: trying to establish if the dreams I had where he comes back and isn’t dead, were dreams or reality.  When my subconscious decided they were in fact real, there he was.  But dreams are not real.  And I know he is dead.  I know he is dead.  That’s a fact.  I was at the funeral.  I watched the coffin going down.  So I need to lock that back up.  I have to stop thinking about him.