I dreamt of you the other night. I was so happy to see you, even though it confused me because I knew you were dead. But you told me that your death had been faked so you could sort yourself out in peace after Michelle’s passing.We talked and laughed, and I was so relieved that it had all been a huge farce and you had gotten yourself back together and were still alive to experience this wonderful/horrible world. You can imagine how unsettling it was for me when I woke up. I was momentarily very upset with myself that I hadn’t given you my phone-number or new face-book (as I can’t access the old one). And then I realized I was in bed and that I had been dreaming. Reality came crashing down on me in an instant, and I knew you were dead. and there was NOTHING I COULD DO. in a month I’ll be as old as you. And that seems wrong somehow. everything seems wrong somehow. That the world can keep spinning, and life goes on without you-as if you weren’t an intrinsic part of it. Everything keeps moving without you, and I feel as if it should have stopped-if only for a moment-to note you passing through.