Dreamshare

We tried to share a dream last night. We decided when and where to meet. We set the scene. Something simple and at the same time, specific enough that it might stick in the memory with ease. Somewhere recognisable and strange both at once. So that our minds could hold onto it whilst falling asleep, as a child might hold a small bear. 

I formed, in my mind's eye, a perfect recreation of the scene. I visualised it to perfection. I held onto the image, held onto the idea of being there in that dream place with you, held onto it so tightly. Then I drifted off into sleep.

I woke up and realised I'd missed our meeting. I'd been elsewhere, with other people, doing something else. I wondered if you'd been in our place, waiting for me, alone, or if you had dreamt that I was there with you. But it seemed more likely that you'd been elsewhere, too. No matter how hard we held onto the place we wanted to go it still escaped us in the end. We couldn't carry it across the border into sleep. Much as, no matter how tightly the child hugs its teddy to its chest as it falls asleep, it is always on the floor the next morning. The same sorrow applies. Though it is not our fault. We are sorry nevertheless.

I'm sorry.