Dreaming ....

.... would be a much better thing if we could control it, wouldn't it?

..... or would it?

I'd love going to sleep each night if I knew that I could dream of Jim. I would choose to dream about him as much as possible.

Good dreams.

Dreams in which he'd be alive.

Dreams in which our lives had never been altered .... or rather, ripped to shreds.

But maybe that wouldn't be a good thing.

Maybe I'd sleep too much.

Maybe I'd never want to enter my reality if I could escape to him.

Maybe I'd stop living so that I would never stop dreaming.

While I would have loved that idea a year ago (to stop living) ..... it's not as appealing to me now. I've moved farther down the "road".

I'm enjoying life again.

Most of the time.

I'm getting stronger each day.

Most days.

I cry less often.

Mostly.

I'm living, rather than just existing.

Even while I grieve.

Dreams are sometimes good.

Sometimes very good.

But I guess that it's a good thing that I can't control them.

Because living in a dream-world really wouldn't be living.

No matter who was in it.

And living gets easier.

I promise.