sweet sleep

I dreamed in french last night.

‘tu parle fran├žais?’ I asked the dream stranger.

And then, immediately embarrassed, I changed the question to the more formal ‘vous parlez francais?’

The accent came from the back of my throat, like a soft purr, and I felt a subconscious sadness for a life I once lived.

This stranger in my dream, he was the only unknown. Like most dreams, this was peppered with people from my past: a boy who broke my heart, another who treated it like junk. We mended old wounds, apologized and were happy in a way that gives all heartache a little more closure.

And right now, that’ll have to do. So rarely do we ever get the closure we need.

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