Yesterday night I dreamt of S. We were outside of an abandoned industrial site where we ran into one another. It was a long-forgotten place full of mystery and opportunity, the kind of place that has a history, a certain charm and some sadness in the broken, graffitied-over walls. I was curious in a soft way about what has happened to her. It made me happy to hear about her and sad that we were no longer together. A form of emptiness overcame me, as if I were a shell of myself and no more.

Lately, I often also daydream about her. I wish I could tell her how much I miss her and how lovely I think she is. I often remember the sweet moments we had, like when she woke me up with a kiss, slept while hugging me, or jumped on me when she found me at a party. Small, maybe inconsequential things, yet to me they convey a form of caring that I’ve had very little of lately. I feel that the little time we spent together has made worthwhile the long stretches of time I spend struggling with life.