I dreamt of you last night. It’s been three weeks since we’ve spoken.

I had just done some shopping at some indescript box store where I was grabbing general supplies for vanlife. The scene before you appeared isn’t particularly clear, just a few panels of watching my feet walk along asphalt & then looking up to see Zoey parked alone at the far end of the lot. When you appeared behind me, the lighting brightened and my perspective changed. I had been floating along with my bag of goods, but when I heard you running up behind me, I dropped sharply into my body. My eyes focused tightly as I turned to see what the noise was, your arms at nineties as a white sneaker struck the ground. You jogged up to me. You were wearing that plain red t-shirt and black joggers. Your skin glowed against the red shirt and a look of distress faded from your face as I turned. You smiled big and hard at me and outstretched your hand towards me. I stopped dead in my tracks, startled at the sight of you approaching me. I wasn’t prepared for this interaction, and my body tensed as your image sunk in. Rigidly, I stepped back away from your reach.

You spoke to me, but I don’t remember the words. I remember looking up at you and missing your eyes, your mouth, your face, your eyebrows, the way your expression changed as you talked to me. I don’t remember hearing the words spoken, but somehow a message was transmitted. You wanted me back. In a way, you were begging me, but I remained unmoved. I turned away from you and walked towards the rear doors of Zoey, where I popped open the lock and put my bags while you continued to plead. You were talking, but I wasn’t hearing any words. I slammed shut the doors and turned to you quickly.

“It doesn’t matter,” I told you, abruptly interrupting. You face quit moving as you peered down at me. The smile fell from your mouth. “I doesn’t matter anymore.” I wanted to say so much more, but just like I feel in real life, I was tired of making my case over and over again. For the last six months, it didn’t matter how I explained my needs and my feelings, you disqualified them with your own, constantly asking me to make more space for you in my life, and not giving me much back. In my dream, I continued to repeat myself to you, as I walked away. “It doesn’t matter.” And then, right before the dream ended I said, “I do know you love me, but as long as you are with her, that’s it. I just doesn’t matter anymore.”