Last night I dreamt in the world of my Normal, where you and I could be the we that we should be.

Alas, I woke. An empty bed; no sign of you. No trace. No lingering warmth. You were never there.

I search my phone in hopes of distraction or respite from my sinking feeling, but instead confront your wedding photos immediately in my scrolling. A clever trick the fates choose to play while the sun continues to rise with no consideration for my disaster. Smiles and embraces. A future without me. Sink. Sinking. Sunk. Alas, I woke.

But then I remember, and my heart ascends from my floor to my chest. I’ll get to see you today. Pitter-pat. I’ll get to smell your perfume and witness your smile. I’ll get to touch your arm when you feel defeated to signal we’re in this together. I’ll get to build you up, to remind you who you are. I’ll get to hear your voice, and the thoughts it speaks. I’ll get to find my happiness in the moments I share with you.

Thank goodness, I woke.

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