I dreamed about Chris again, right before I woke up this morning. This dream was a dream about letting go, I think. Chris was in the room with me, but he wasn’t mine. There was another woman in the room with long, straight, brunette hair. I never saw her face, just what she looked like generally. She was pretty. Chris belonged to her. A couple of times, I reached my hand out to touch his but pulled it back before we connected because it wasn’t right. He belonged to her.
I guess my dream mirrors my reality. I constantly reach out to touch my sweetheart, but he’s no longer in this dimension with me. He's in another dimension or I am in my own dementia.
...my own, sweet, soothing dimentia.
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