The Invisible Support Group

Over the last nine years, so much of what I write has to do with the loss of a good friend. There are days where I find that I don't think of him at all, then there are days, like today, that he is in my every thought.

I had a dream last night. In this dream, I was back in Virginia, and I didn't look like myself, I was tall and insanely thin and blonde (I'm average height, a (dyed) red head and not thin, at all) and travelling in the car with my high school best friend, who didn't look like her at all, but in my heart I knew it was her. And in the back seat was my friend, who didn't look like him, but again, in my soul, I knew it was him.

We were driving on the highway, past this circular shaped building, and I pointed at it and said, "There it is, that's my building. I designed that and it's my baby."

It was a Sam's Club, I'm not sure why that's important, but there it is anyways. So after we drove some more, there was flirting and this overwhelming feeling that something was going to happen. That some kind of change was going to happen, I can't explain it, but if you've ever felt it, then you know what I mean.

Flash forward in the dream and we're at this odd little pizza restaurant that doubles as a bar. I've never been to a place like this, and the place in the dream wasn't familiar. There's a gap in the dream at this point and the next thing I remember, we're arguing. He's telling me there's a girl that he just can't walk away from, and if he could be with me he would.

I'm crying, we're all back in the car and there's a room with exposed brick walls and fighting, and then he's gone. And I laid in bed with tears streaming down my face.

All day today, I haven't been able to shake this feeling. I can't even explain the feeling. It's sadness, obviously, and loss. This feeling that's best described like this: having what could have been in your grasp and getting a taste of some other life and then feeling it slip through your finger tips, again.

I don't want any other life than the one I have. I love my girls beyond words or expression and I love my husband with all that I am, was and could ever be. I want my life with him and with my girls. Truly I do. There are times (call it my writers brain) that likes to explore what my life could have been if only...I dream it up, I sometimes write it up..but that's the extent. It makes good fiction because that's all it is.

Sometimes I feel like I'm being haunted by the memories. Sometimes I wish I had someone to talk to about it, someone who understood.