On Dreams

As a child I was convinced that I was living in a dream of an alder me. I believed that I was the representation of this other me's childhood. I often wondered to myself if on some given day he would wake up and if I simply would disappear.

When I got older those thoughts were replaced. My own dreams become more vivid and on occasion I wondered if I was peering into another world.

Of these, the most affecting involved living out a whole year within a dream that lasted twelve minutes. When I awoke, disoriented and confused, taking a while to realize that it was only a dream.

As an adult dreams come rarely.

When I do recall one, it tends to be related to reflect inner turmoil, and such are often depressing and disarming, leaving a stinging sensation when I awake.

Over the last few months though I have begun to have visions connected someone I had developed feeling for. They feel real, as though peering into the future. I dream of our daughter, young, smiling, innocent. She is completely in awe of the world around her, and I relive the wonder of youth through her. She exists here, we are a family. When these dreams first began, they were wonderful, joyful.

The situation has changed, but the dreams have not stopped. Now each time I see my daughter hope is replaced with loss, joy replaced by pain.

The dreams have become less and less frequent as the days and weeks pass. I do not know whether I should mourn or celebrate that fact. 

What will happen when one day I no longer dream of her? Will she continue on, continuing her life as part of an alternate life; or will she simply cease to be when one day I finally wake up?