As I toss about in bed, unable to sleep, I clutch at your pillows. How I long for the moments we would go to bed at the same time, but we both know that we have to do what is needed for our family.
As the tears threaten to free their blue-green prison, I catch it. The faint remains of your cologne dance along your pillows like a ballerina preforming a magical display. I inhale the musk, memories dancing in my head. I fall back to a time where I’d lay my head on your chest and your fingers would slip slowly through my hair, enticing the goosebumps to rise to the surface. You’d snicker and call me a whimp, playfully of course. I giggle as I fail to stifle a yawn.
The musk lulls me to sleep and you are there in my dream. You stand proud in an impressive suit, your eyes dancing over me. I can’t understand why you are beaming like a child on Christmas until I look down. I’m donned in the most stunning of gowns, one that puts the Disney princesses to shame. I run to you, streets appearing beneath my feet and glass buildings appearing beside me. I turn to glance at the reflection in front of me and gasp. My hair is long, skin is glistening, and teeth are straight and close together. I am the picture of perfection with you by my side.
You take my hand and we sway to music that only we can hear, in the middle of the busy streets. The drivers don’t honk for us to move, in fact, they take turns swerving around us. They create a protective barrier as we get lost in each other’s eyes. I rest my head against your shoulder, and there I am reacquainted with your wonderful musk.
I fall deeper into the musk induced slumber, and the walls of our home begin building themselves. We are sitting on the porch, a hand built swing suspended from the beams of the porch. I watch our children play with their children in the sprinkler, while you tell stories of all the things you built for our home. The grandkids stop and giggle in tiny fits, exclaiming “don’t brag, papa!” I take your hand in mine and smile. We know the truth, every inch of this home was designed by you.
As the dream fades to an end, I stretch and find myself in our bed, alone once more. I turn and take a deep breath, a smile breaking my lips. Even though I’m alone, you are still here. Your pillows were always my favorite, because of how well they preserved your scent.