Today I had a dream. A terrible one. You were blind. It made me feel helpless but you didn’t seem too perturbed. It was almost as if you knew this was going to happen. You were too aware of your deteriorating condition. You were prepared for a life when the gift of sight was no longer available. How could you be so calm all these years? Why did you never tell me? Heck, how did I ever not know? That appalled me. More at my lack of awareness about your deteriorating condition all this while than at my fear of caring for you. I could care for you. I would be with you no matter what. I was in love. But was I really. Did you believe so?
I woke up. Engulfed by an acute sense of longing and grief. I wanted to mourn my loss. I had to hold you. Tightly. But how could I. You were already gone. I wish there were any other way I could mourn.