Nightmare.

I dreamt of you the other day. It was vivid and clear and felt so very real. You looked so very beautiful. You were on your porch on Jackson Street when I pulled up. At the sight of my car you cried and ran away, just like you did that painful night at Allie’s party.

I began to run after you through burning pain as my cast and crutches fell away. I ran with all my might, terrified that I could lose you again. I caught up to you eventually, and you quickly turned a corner to shake my chase. I found you there weeping on a curb, your back to the sunset, holding a gun to your chest. You said “Fuck Savanna, you make me want to shoot!” I put my shaking hands on the barrel, and with great effort, turned the gun from your heart to my own. I didn’t cry. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t hesitate. I said “Baby if you’ve got to shoot something, it’s going to be me.”

You cried harder and the gun fell from your hands as you collapsed into my arms. You fit so well there. You cursed me and wept “Do you still love me? How can you?” I knew that somehow you had heard about Becca and the others.

I kissed your sweet hair and whispered “I have never lied to you. I will love you till the day I die.” You looked up, your beautiful eyes searched mine and found only sincerity. You kissed me like you used to and I melted into you and wept, finally feeling complete and at peace.

Her shaking brought me back to my small room and tiny bed. My cheeks were tear stained and little wet blots covered my pillow. “Babe, what’s wrong?” she pleaded, worried.

I sighed and turned away from her, though she continued to rub my back. “Nightmare.”