I had a dream when I first fell asleep tonight. It was a bad dream. I'm not sure why it felt the way it did, but I can't shake it.
It wasn't a bad dream the way dreams about being chased by Nazis are bad; it wasn't a bad dream the way dreams about falling towards certain death are bad.
I just know that I woke up from the dream feeling depressed, feeling hopelessly, inexorably alone. Never mind the fact that Kerry had fallen asleep with her head on my shoulder, with her arms around me.
Part of the problem is that she slept on, while my initial round of R.E.M. constituted a power nap, so while she shifted and dozed off, my loneliness was compounded by a very refreshed feeling.
I woke up well-rested and ready to conquer the day. Even if that meant conquering my loneliness. Alone. At least until she wakes back up.
14 August 2008
I have bad dreams.
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