Once in a while, I get the urge to write something serious. Usually, I do it when I wake up from a dream. I type furiously without stopping to muse over my diction or even make proper paragraphs. Then I save it, slam the laptop shut, and never look at it again.
Over the last two years, I’ve started to look over these “something serious” writings. It’s still hard, but once in a while I’ll read something I wrote in a frenzy, make a few corrections, and put it away again.
Rarely have I showed these writings to anyone. Maybe never. But today, I want to share it. It’s been a few years, I think I can broach the subject matter, so I’m posting something small and serious that I just wrote.
Last night I cried in my dream
Last night, I cried in my dream. I cried when I realized it was a dream.
Everything made sense. I was in an office – my new office – going over work with colleagues who were just getting to know me. As we huddled around one computer screen he walked by, sharp dressed as always. We felt proud that he was stopping to look at what we were doing. I was happy that he was there to hear the witty remark I was about to make.
I said my funny thing. The others laughed. And he backed me up, adding his signature humor to the conversation.
I looked at him, so pleased that we could share this joke together. I looked at him with my glowing happiness, so pleased that we could stand in this sunlit room together, chat together.
Then, I saw that it was a dream. I saw that it couldn’t be. Panicked, I seized his hand, holding it tightly in both my hands, and rushed the words out before they drowned in the oncoming sobs,
“Daddy, I miss you so much.”