I woke up this morning from a dream. I dreamed you came home!
In my dream, I was in the bedroom, and I found a stack of books and journals of yours. Journals I gave you. I opened one, and it wasn't personal things, like what boy you think is cute, or what makes you angry, or anything like that... It was the title of a story, or a script, that you were writing. Something about yourself and puppets.... I think you were writing a script for a puppet show....
But I didn't get any further than the title, cuz I looked up, and you were standing there at the doorway, looking at me.
I couldn't believe my eyes. I scrambled to my feet and ran to hug you... but we were both, kind of hesitant-- like we were afraid of being punished for hugging... So our hug was short and confusing...
I was speechless. "How?....why?... How is it you're here?" I finally stammered out, my joy and fear colliding.
With strained uncertainty, you answered, "I came here on my own, but I can't stay long, I have to get back before she misses me."
I wanted to ask you so many things, but I woke up. My mind was racing...could this happen? Will this happen?? How do you get in the apartment (in my dream)? I need to figure out a way for you to let yourself in, should you ever want to or need to.
This is your home, Amelia!
Thank you for visiting your dear old dad. Even if only in a dream...
D
