>About once a month now, I have a variation on the dream I had last night. It always starts out sad, remembering Cherie is gone–last nights’ was one of the saddest, as Jayne and I were driving somewhere together, and I clearly felt a large empty hole where Cherie should have been sitting, to make it the three of us. I remember thinking about that feeling for a long time–rational, reflective thoughts that don’t often make their way into my dreams. Thoughts about how it would never be the same, there would always be that loss.
Then a bit later, Cherie came up and greeted us. I was pretty freaked out, but she explained something about some serum this guy discovered, and they had applied it to her buried body just in time (apparently, a few months was the limit to revive someone). She said she wasn’t sure it would last, she might only live again for a week or a month, but she was glad to have more time with us. It was amazing, and awesome. I was telling her about the playlist I had come up with after she’d died, all our old high school and college favorites, but those with lyrics that had become particularly meaningful to me after she died. I remember thinking how wonderful it was that I could share this with her now, how she totally appreciated the humor and sadness of it, and how I had been longing to share it with her before. When I woke up, I thought it was odd that I came up with that playlist idea, until I finally remembered I had done that very thing in May, a week after she died. I haven’t looked at the playlist in months; apparently only my subconscious remembered it.
Of course, when I first woke up, I had the same experience I always do with those dreams–thirty seconds of intense happiness, with a vague wondering of why I was happy. Then I realize it’s because Cherie is alive again–and immediately realize it was a dream, and plunge into sadness.
It’s been nearly six months now, and while the dreams are becoming less frequent, they’re only becoming more intense. Sometimes I feel like I want to scream out to people I barely now, in public–especially at work–that I lost one of my best friends, and it hurts so bad, and I don’t feel like messing with daily crap anymore–email, meetings, laundry, groceries. I thought it would get easier–and most days, it is. But some days, it’s harder.