16 June 2009


It's a nightmare, Sam is muttering things under his breath. He's sweating a bit and I get an instant flashback to the last time I ever saw him have a nightmare, he must have been nine or ten, so impossibly long ago it seems. I wonder if he has happy dreams at all.
I wonder if maybe, just maybe, this new situation could bring us together again. It's selfish, I know, terribly unfair to act like this, to think like this because some huge part of this is for my benefit. I am not even certain he wants this.
I try to sleep. I feel so helpless, tangled in tubes and wires so much I can't even wake him up to tell him it's just a nightmare and will go with morning, though it is true that the very worst nightmares are impervious to the morning sun.

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