Nightmares

Well to start: my grandpa died Staurday morning. Though I'm not certain, I think it was a broken heart. My grandma died earlier this year and he's been living for her for almost a decade. The report probably said complications due to conjective (sp?) heart failure...but to me all I see is broken heart.

So with that fresh on my plate Sunday afternoon ( my mom tried to get in touch with me on Saturday but I was unreachable) I sent Paul on his way to go home. I knew that with him there all i would be able to do is cry. I had things that needed doing and the best way to get over the fact that I only have 1 grandparent was to go and do those things. Night came around and with nightime, sleep. It was a lonely sleep and I hated getting into bed last night. My bed always seems more empty when I know he won't be there. Last night especially when all I wanted was someone to hug me, he wasn't there. As I lay there all I could think was what if he died? What if he crashed on the way to his house. Its a long drive and when would I find out?? When would his mom finally put a call into me to see if he was still with me after he didn't answer her phone calls?? THe next day? What would I do? COuld I get to him in time?? I fell asleep.

And I dreamt that he died: I was at home (with my parents) for my grandpa's memorial service when Paul's mom called me. She told me, flat out, Paul died. And I fell. I hit the gorund of my best friend's lawn and I cried and yelled until there was nothing more to yell and yet the tears kept flowing. Never stopping. That first dream day I couldn't do anything but weep and think of all the things we'd never done, the aniversary we were only a month away from. The hugs and kisses we'd never share again. I felt a physical pain deep in my chest and knew what it felt like to have your heart break. The next day I got up the courage and told my friends I wanted to go and see the body. The body. He was my lover, my one and only, he couldn't be gone, there had to be more there. We walked down the street (in dreams its easy to get places) and went to his basement where he was laid out. I found, he wasn't dead. Brain dead, but not dead. His body was twisted into a strange and uncomfortable position; he moaned and shook as if in the grips of a never ending seizure. And again I cried, begged him to come back to me. I wept tears of love and pain for him and myself, I entreated and wept, plead and sobbed. But I couldn't bring him back. Eventually his body calmed. He stopped shaking and twisting, finaly laying still. He looked at me, but didn't see me. I looked at him; again my heart broke and the pain split me.

The dream ends there. It was awful. I woke up and felt terrible. I can still feel that pain in my chest. I don't know what I would do if I lost him. If I thought I needed a hug from him before bed, I need one from him now more than ever. As luck would have it, we can't see each other for two weeks. I have to work this weekend, and he has to move into his house. I'm not sure what I'm going to do.

~*Ery*~