Dedicated to the guy who has brought me to life. The one who gave me the will to live and to move on when no one else did.
The person who encourages me to wake up.
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I was upset.
That's the last thing I can clearly remember, but instead of sitting in the car and letting it all out like I normally did when I was upset, I went on a drive.
And now it's all hazy, except more of dark.
I hear voices that are fuzzy in my head, it seems like I should know them, like I should remember them.
I hear others, unconcern unlike those I think I should know, and they say things that I don't fully hear or understand.
It sounds like there's something wrong, like someone or something should be doing something that they're not.
Sometimes I want to open my eyes, I think maybe if I just open them I'll be able to remember the voices and then I'll recall.
They're important to me I can tell, but for some reason I feel too tired. I try to open my eyes but I think that it's just easier to go back to sleep, then to try to wake up.
It's a familiar feeling.
I slip away from the thoughts and I rest, I go to sleep like I wanted to although I wonder if that's what it can be called, if I haven't even woken.
And then time passes, although I can't tell if it's been a lot or none at all, and I dream.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I wonder if it is possible to dream in a state like this, just as I wonder if it is possible to sleep.
But it must be a dream because I am in an unfamiliar place, a small house with one hallway that reminds me of the voices.
I should remember it.
I recall anguish and fear as I walk down the hallway, but they're distant memories and the walk seems longer then it should be.
Time is being stretched.
The feelings get stronger but all I know is calm and peace. A small room appears on the left, a dark hole in the wall that I cannot see through.
But I do not care.
I come to the room and he's there and I smile because I miss him. I've missed him so much.
I reach my hand out and it collides with his as he stands there with a sad smile.
The time begins to thin, what should be minutes, hours, is only seconds as my hand fades away and runs through him.
And suddenly I can't remember who he is though I desperately want to. All I know is I'm sad, tears are streaming down my face and I do not want to leave him, no matter what.
But he still smiles as I cry, with understanding beyond my comprehension.
"It's okay Meghann. I can wait, I'll always be here waiting so don't worry. Take your time."
His smile is so genuine that I believe him. I know he's waiting and it's okay for me to leave, I can take all the time I need because he is truly content with waiting.
I stare at his face as he stares at our hands as I continue to cry. I sniffle and turn to look at them too.
His pinkie wraps around mine.
The hallways pulls me back, bringing me closer to the lighter part of the house and I cry louder, my hand reaching out.
I don't care that he can wait, I don't want to anymore, even if I can't remember.
