For the fifth time in just over a week, I dreamt of either my dad or brother. Once, dad was moving me into uni, and offered some pretty great advice.
Once, they were both just in the background at some confusing and clearly unrealistic party I was attending.
Last night, I somehow got to speak to Gian “from beyond the grave.” I told him how much I missed him, and how hard this past year has been. He apologised.
And I know that is just my subconscious haunting me with what I most want and can never have. And I know that I’m imagining what I want to hear, and not receiving messages from the great beyond in some kind of supernatural-esque fashion.
But it’s been nice. It’s been comforting. And, given that it’s the only way I will ever get to speak to them again, it’s enough.