I had a dream last night that Richard was back in Illinois from Taipei. He was giving me high fives. International high fives from every place he visited this summer: “Rio high five, Taiwan high five, Vicosa high five.” It was rapid fire high fives, both hands. And we were laughing and making stupid faces at each other. Running through the past few months that were our summer:
“I ate this.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
It was a good dream. I woke up to the sound of my own laughter. I haven’t done that in a while.
But then I was awake and it was 430am and I wasn’t with Richard. And then I had to remember all over again that a reunion like that isn’t in store. In the back of my mind, he’s still away on his summer travels. His ridiculous 30 flight summer. He’ll be back. The summer is ending, and with that will come Richard. No, he’s gone. The change in season doesn’t signify anything. I’m not that sad girl I was in June–that bag of bones trying to pass off as human, but I miss him. It should be enough that I see him in my dreams and in my memories, but it’s not yet.

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