The thing is that he's gone now, and I never said goodbye. I'm sure he waited for me to reach out for that, but I stupidly - so stupidly - told myself I had more time. Then, I didn't. All of a sudden, the window closed, and one of my deepest regrets opened.
I think about that a lot. the words of James Taylor's "Fire and Rain" say it for me: "I always thought that I'd see you again."
I often wonder if he knows that, if he knows the special part of my heart he occupies. The dead come close to me - often - but I haven't known if he does. Did my silence hurt him enough that even his spirit avoids me?
Early this morning, in my dreamscape, I was in what seemed to be an airport. Not surprising, as the desire for travel has been strong lately. I was watching the people milling around, on their way here and there. I stood still, watching from a doorway.
Then, from around the corner to my right, came my friend. His intention was to come to see me. As he stepped around the corner, his eyes swept along the milling crowds, with an expression that seemed to say, "Well, here I am now."
I don't usually recall my dreams. But I can see him clearly still. The trimmed haircut and beard. His bright eyes. The slight smirk. He wore a polo-style shirt, with a yellow collar, and yellow and white stripes. I can still feel the waffle-like weave of the fabric as I quite literally leaped to hug him to me as he turned to me.
"I thought I'd never see you again!" I was exclaiming as we hugged each other. My joy was overwhelming - I could tell him all the things I wish I had.
Then, the airport started fading, the people disappeared around us.
No no no! Don't wake me up now! I held on tighter, took in all the details I could as he silently slipped away from me again.
I fought it, but my waking consciousness took over...and I was alone in my room, in the dark, my arms empty. My words still unsaid.
I miss him so much, for so many reasons. Not for the things I wish I'd said, but for all the things we shared. I'll believe I got to hug him again, for what it was worth.
