Who Knows, Not Me

Dreams are strange. Sometimes they feel like echoes of the day, stitched together into nonsense. Other times, they hit like a vision, a whisper from something bigger than ourselves. I’ve had dreams where something good happens, and then, days later, reality mirrors it almost exactly. A feeling of déjà vu washes over me, and I wonder—was that a coincidence? A prediction? A sign?

But then there are other dreams. The ones that leave me unsettled. The ones that pull someone from my past—you.

What does it mean when I see you in my dreams? The man who was once my everything and then, just like that, became a stranger. You still exist somewhere in the world, walking, breathing, living a life without me in it. And yet, here you are, appearing in the quiet hours of the night, uninvited but impossible to ignore.

Maybe it means something. Maybe it’s my heart reminding me that love like that doesn’t just disappear—it lingers, buried under time and distance but never quite gone. Maybe it’s unfinished business, emotions I never fully unpacked. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s nothing at all. A flicker of a memory, a trick of the subconscious.

But if it’s nothing, why do I still feel it when I wake up?