silence in dreams

In my dream, your hair looked the way it did in 2003.
It was soft.
Made your face look delicate.
Fragile.
Real.

We sat in the back of a car, but I don't know who was behind the wheel.
I stared at you, a stare that spoke softly and sent a "hello" for the first time
In a long time.

There was a blur around the edges.
As if the picture was not quite in focus.
But I could make you out in the haze.
I told you I was sorry.

You didn't speak.
But your smile accepted my apology.
We appeared there unshaken by the events of real life.

In the dream, you shone like a star.
And I was, for the first time in a long time, a sun that revolved around you.
During last night's sleep, I forgot pain.
Sadness.
The like.

I remember one night I told you I loved you.
And I told you that I meant it so strongly,
that I wanted to SCREAM it in your face.

Now I want to scream something different,
yet altogether the same.
I MISS YOU.
All of you.
Everything.
Even the bad stuff.
Even the mutual pain we caused.
Even the cold shoulders, the silent dismissals.
Every.
Thing.

But it doesn't matter in this world,
the only world we've got,
a world oustide of the dreams
in which you come back
from wherever you are,
and make me
happy again.

Of course I'll be alright.
I just had a bad night.