I woke up this morning with my heart racing and tears pouring on to my pillow. I had a dream last night not that KJ was alive, but that he was dead. and i cried. i woke up, and for that split second I thought it was just a nightmare. then i realized that this was the nightmare I call life. Most people think that when someone close to you dies, you dont want to talk about it. That is so far from the truth. I want to talk about him. I want to remember him. I want to picture him in my mind and try very hard to convince myself that he is just right there...just right there. Im feeling dizzy.
The last time I talked to my brother he told me how he was off house arrest. I told him that see life wasnt so bad and that I had to go. That was St. Patricks day.
The last time I saw my brother we got into a fight over his math homework. he was learning the F.O.I.L technique. I told him he was doing it wrong. He told me I didnt know what I was talking about. I followed with how was I wrong when I actually passed basic algebra and was in college. He told me to F off. Ha! We didnt talk for about an hour. I wish I could have that hour, just that one hour back.
I want to go home, get into bed, pull the covers over my head and not get up until tomorrow when maybe I dont have to dream about him anymore. But since that will never happen, I just want to go to sleep because that is where we meet.