I Dreamed A Dream
I saw her again last night. She came to me, dressed in her best violet long skirt and corset, and performed for me, danced for me, as she once had. But then for some reason, inside the dream, I grew sad. I don't know why I did, but I realized it was just a dream. So I asked her about it. Whether she too knew she was just a facsimile of the woman I had known and loved. It took her a moment, but she responded that she knew.
We talked. I suspected there was more that she, as me but still not-me, or at least peripherally-me, knew that I did not as centrally-me. She said she had loved me. That I had once been very special to her. But she had to ask me if she still loved me. And when I told her that she did not, that she no longer felt anything for me, she grew distant, agitated. I followed her around but she no longer wished to speak with me. As though she knew as well as I did that I had ruined something truly magical.
I do not know how the dream ended. I think it just faded out as I resurfaced into consciousness.
We talked. I suspected there was more that she, as me but still not-me, or at least peripherally-me, knew that I did not as centrally-me. She said she had loved me. That I had once been very special to her. But she had to ask me if she still loved me. And when I told her that she did not, that she no longer felt anything for me, she grew distant, agitated. I followed her around but she no longer wished to speak with me. As though she knew as well as I did that I had ruined something truly magical.
I do not know how the dream ended. I think it just faded out as I resurfaced into consciousness.
