December 23, 2013
Dear Brian,
I've been dreaming about you a lot lately for some reason. They haven't been the amazing kind like the one I had just 6 weeks after you died (see this post: https://letterstobrian.com/2013/02/09/91/) but instead they are all dreams of you coming back from wherever you've been these past 3 years.
The first one was simple... I just saw you from behind walking away down a long, dusty dirt road with the sun setting at your back. (Being the smartass you always were I'm sure you're saying to me, "If you didn't see a face, how did you know it was me, dude?") Well, I just knew. And it was so comforting to see you.
The next dream was about me making plans to come pick you up at the airport because you were coming back to me. I was so excited and was making all sorts of plans for us and couldn't wait to introduce you to all my friends who so far have only gotten to know you through my stories and letters to you.
The third dream was a little more involved. You called me one day out of the blue and said you were coming back. However, since your house and car had been sold you would need a place to live now. You asked if you could come live with me. I began to cry and said, "Of course! Nothing would make me happier! Just come back, please and we'll figure everything out!"
On one hand these dreams have been wonderful... just to see your face and hear your voice. On the other hand, there is the gut-wrenching pain that I feel each time I wake up from one of these dreams only to realize they weren't real and that you're still gone.
For months and months after you died I was tortured with recurring thoughts that maybe you were still alive. Since I wasn't allowed to see your body, there was a part of my brain (and to some degree there still is) that didn't believe it was true. I kept thinking what would you do if you came home? We removed all of your belongings, took your keys and your car and your cell phone. How could you reach us when you came back?? Maybe that part of me that didn't believe you were gone is the same part that is giving me all of these bittersweet dreams.
As painful as they are, I'll take them. Anything that allows me (real or imagined) to see and hear you again are the best gifts I could ask for.
Missing you so very much...
Laura