…I don’t know if this was a good dream or a bad one:
I don’t know where I was, but what I know is that I was told Michael Bohorquez was alive…disabled but alive. So I sought out to find him. I did find him…and my grandma was there. She warned me that he may or may not be responsive but it might do him some good to see me. So I walked into a well lit room where he was laying on a bed resting. Not really responding to the person standing on the side of the bed. I crawled next to him and whispered in his ear, “Hey love…it’s me..I am here…and I won’t leave you ever again…” Next thing I knew he slowly turned his head towards me…without saying anything and smiled. Opened his eyes and smiled at me.
Shortly after, he got up…hobbled across the room and talked to me. He smiled…he laughed. He was happy.
I cried in my sleep…
I wish like hell I could hold you…touch you. I wish I could have SAVED you.
Although we were both so young, so very young you loved me. Love is a word that is in my opinion purely subjective….and that is a word you learned with me to know. A word you learned to embrace.
You actually loved me….I miss that so much. When you died, a small piece of me went with you….a longing just to have you back. I would damn near give ANYTHING just to hear your voice…one more time.
JUST ONE MORE TIME.
I think because of you, I learned to love and forgive. Learned to love unconditionally….because of you I give chance after chance even if undeserved. Because I have an innate fear of losing someone else I fell for…much like I did you.
I cannot go through that again…