I just woke from a dream where an ex from my past was, instead, still my partner. My love. And we were in the midst of a break up. He was gathering up some of his things into boxes and I was devastated.
I gestured to the photos of us over time, to ones of us with our arms around his children, smiling. I could not find words to speak – only sobs and tears as he took each photo. He kept gathering his things until there was nothing left of us. No reminder of our time together, of the family I thought we had built.
I woke up feeling like I had been weeping. I haven’t have my heart broken by anyone romantically in at least a decade. I forgot how horrible it feels. As I woke more, I felt relief that it was a dream, comforted by the distance in my heart from that particular brand of heartache. But a little later a tiny part of me also noted I hadn’t loved anyone that fiercely either.
For a Brave Sparrow 