Down below me standing on the ground was my love. He had tears in his eyes and on his face, but his saddened look was quickly changing to one of shock. As I moved down to him he paced around spurting out harsh words. I felt sorry for him. He was still fighting the pain, it would not end for him, nor do I think it could. I followed closely behind him as he moved back in front of a tombstone. I read the name that appeared on it. It was my own name, Sandra. I moved over and stood next to it, and looked back to him. He had an extremely shocked and terrified look on his face. I could feel what he was thinking. He thought it was all a dream at first. A simple innocent dream meant only to teach him a lesson. He could not take it. He lost his mind, and now he must face the shock of realizing it was real to him. He was so innocent and yet cursed to suffer. How could he have known, after going through that? His mind became twisted between reality and dream. I now regret putting him through this. He is right though; the world he is in now is his own real world. It is no longer mine though. To me he was a worthy servant, whose only purpose was to fill the role as my love.
My love fell to his stomach and lay across the grave in front of the tombstone. I turned and looked at it. I watched my name Sandra across the top. The letters of it soon became fuzzy and scrambled up. So did the words to the epitaph. The tombstone became unreadable to me so I turned back to my love on the ground. “I’m sorry.” I said. For a character of my imagination, the dream world is his home world. It was all he knew as real. For me, it is my place to experience many things freely that I hold sacred. I was lucky to find out I was dreaming this time. I can leave with a goodbye now. My whisper carried the message to his ears, as everything faded for me. My view was replaced with blackness. I felt whole again. With little hesitation I slowly opened my eyes.
