I had the most magnificent dream last night, and although I normally do not recall too many of the specifics of my nighttime adventures this one is vivid and simply brilliant in my mind.  It is as if it was not a dream at all but a slightly altered state of reality.  It obviously did not occur in the reality that we live in currently, or at least believe we live in, but the time that I spent with her during this dream was as real to me when I awoke than any afternoon spent with her.  However, is it possible that dreams are in fact as real as the world in which we live?  Salvador Dali wrote that, "One day it will have to be officially admitted that what we have christened reality is an even greater illusion than the world of dreams."  Perhaps the world of dreams is decidedly more real than this illusion of reality.  I'd like to believe that to be true, for every time I dream of  her,  as I did last night, I can tell myself that it was just as true as the physical time spent with her the last three years.   It was just so pure and true to the life we had together.  And it was indeed her, not some shadowy figure labeled in my mind as "melissa."   It was my joyful girl, the same one who said she'd love me forever and said to me that it was necessary for her to fall asleep every night in my arms.  The same joyful girl that walked with her shoulders hunched as high as can be when she was cold, and kept reese's peanut butter cups in her backpack for when she was hungry.  No, she may not be able to fall asleep in my arms, at least not for now, but now when I go to sleep I am able to visit a different plane of existence with her, one that puts a smile on my face when I wake.  

 

With that, I am going to take a nap.