Memoirs

dying

I had a dream you were dying. You were terminal, living in a nursing home. I tried to get you to come live with me but you refused. I asked you about Silas. I begged you to get him back to me and you agreed, saying your girlfriend was overwhelmed with taking care of him. You acted relieved to be done with the battle of choosing between her and I, almost happy with your choice to choose neither of us.