I do not know how it had happened, but I knew that I would never, could never, be happy again. Friends and family crowded too close, offering me gifts and empty kind words, trying to make me smile. I just wanted to be left alone to be miserable. As is the nature of dreams, the scenery around me would change from time to time- an unfamilar living room, an airplane, a library. The "friends" that visted were not always people that I actually know. This did not indicate to me that perhaps I was experiencing something untrue.
When I woke, I was blaming myself for not insisting that he go to the doctor when the pain started. The realization that it was a dream came to me slowly, and even after that, it took a little longer to understand that because it was a dream, it had not happened. I actually felt the relief physically- my breathing changed, and I was acutely aware of my heartbeat. I pulled my bedcovers more tightly around me and stayed very still, reminding myself that I was not sad.
I was, however, exhausted. It was not a restful sleep.
What a horrible to way to start a Monday.