An Unsettling Feeling

For the last several weeks, I have woken up nearly every day wondering if Adam is still alive. It has been over two months since I last saw him and he told me of his ultimate decision to move to Columbia to live out his final days. Not knowing if he was telling the truth, and worse, not knowing if he even was sick, I just shrugged it off as a way for him to push me away even further. Still not having checked the facts or returned to his apartment almost 100 miles away from me, I have conceded that he had to have been telling the truth, for reasons too personal for me to express today. The reasons for me to not believe him in the first place included several occurrences in which he could not prove the things he was talking about, the fact that he never looked or acted terminally ill, and the claims from several of his friends that he told outlandish stories quite often; some even thought he was likely a pathological liar.

This morning I woke up after a particularly dreadful dream, even though it had a certain peace about it. I was on my way to meet some members of my family, but was caught in an odd traffic stop that required people to trade their cars for flattened cardboard boxes, walk several yards, then they’d receive their car back and could be on their way. After this odd stop, I stopped by a friend’s work to say hello. During my stop, I began to feel drunk, confused, say the wrong words in sentences they didn’t belong, and my friend noticed. Thinking I had been driving around drunk or was on drugs, he quietly called 911. I as I began to collect my things to leave, I suddenly realized that I was not feeling well at all. All sounds began to cease as if I were in a tunnel, and my voice quickly became hoarse. I turned to my friend, who had a look of horror on his face, and said “I don’t feel well, help me.” He put his hands on my shoulders and gently lowered me to the ground. As I lay there, looking up at him, I could not speak, I could barely hear muffled sounds, and my vision quickly faded. It was a calm, frightening, yet peaceful departure; I had died. In real life, I woke up slowly, barely breathing. I was scared to open my eyes because I wasn’t sure what I would see, if what had just happened was real – it was so vivid it could have been. But then I remembered the silly traffic stop and opened my eyes. Immediately I tried to think about what my dream meant, why my mind had wandered in such a morbid direction. I immediately thought of Adam.

I’d like to think that Adam and I had one of those strong connections, that even in death we’d be able to find each other, but I have no idea if I should think like that anymore. Dreams like the one from last night make me feel uneasy and unsure of how things are going with him. No matter what, I’ll always be left in the dark.

To me, the oddest thing is, I typically forget my dreams within ten minutes of waking up. This dream was so vivid, though, that even a few hours after, I still remember even the smallest details.

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