I haven't dreamed in months.

You were dressed in a blue, long sleeved, collared shirt. It was tucked in your slacks and a brown belt was worn around your waist. I was in the back seat of an unidentifiable car and while looking out the window, I passed you. I yelled to the driver to stop, to just stop. I opened the door and jumped out of the vehicle without bidding a goodbye. I ran, as fast as I could, but I didn't catch you.

It then flashed to a room, one very similar to the room in which I slept. I noticed you then how I'd noticed you before. Excited, excited to meet everyone at Homecoming. But then someone told you "You're gone, Kyle. You died." It was as if they had said nothing, you didn't hear them. And just as soon as they started showing you pictures, it was as if I was released from a jail cell of observation, and I ran to you with desperation. I needed to comfort you, I needed to tell you what happened because you obviously didn't know. You stood there with the evidence of a broken heart on your face, with an expression of ultimate helplessness. You knew something was wrong, but you heard no one but me.

That's when I wrapped my arms around you and began to sob. You put your arms around my waist, pulled me closer, and buried your face into my neck. Through breaths I told you what happened and that I'd missed you so much. I asked you not to leave me, but you said nothing.

"Kyle, did you love her? Did you love her, Kyle?" I shook you as if I doubted you'd give me the correct answer like all the other times I demanded you to admit it. You looked at me with a stone cold expression that told me I didn't need to ask such a thing. Then hurt washed over your face and I looked around me. She was not there and that was why.

Someone took our picture. Over and over, as each photo flashed, I voiced that I wanted everyone to see you. To see that you came back and that you were really among us somehow.

Your phone illuminated the dimness of wherever we were and I knew it was telling you to go and that your time was up. You put your hand on my face and I leaned into it, starting to weep again. I took my own hand and put it over yours as you stared into my blurry eyes. I felt as if you told me you loved me even though your mouth never moved and no sound escaped those lips.

You faded away as I regained conciousness. I then woke up with a start and an immediate cry. Crying because I had no pictures and weeping because I had no you.