Building 27 “The Unknown Dream”

“Unforgettable. That is what he called me, but it couldn't have been further from the truth. If I was so hard to let go of, then why does he never return my calls or make me feel important.

Why doesn't he remember my name?

I thought that at least my name would linger for him, but even that seems so far removed, so distant that it feels unimportant in the broad scheme of things. I haven't used my name in so long that I can't even be sure I am pronouncing it right. I think it was Emily, but I can't be sure. I think that was my mothers name, but I don't remember her either.

No one can remember anymore.

I want to feel alive like I did before. I want to know that when I wake in the morning that I will see myself the same way I did when I went to sleep. Maybe when I am truly gone I will get my wish. I will wake up and go to sleep and wake up again, and everything will be as it was the night before.

Just one blank slate.

I dream about the place more and more as time passes. I've lost track of the days, but I know that out of the last four nights, three of them were dreams about that place that I had never been to. That place Eric had never been to either. Neither of us know how the place connects to everything, if it is at all.

But it is the thing we have the least trouble remembering, and so we focus on it with all our might, but maybe that is what makes our memory worse.

How do we not...how do I not think about the one thing that seems to make sense day in and day out? The nights when I dream about it I wake up feeling relaxed and without worry. There is a serenity in that place, and it is so hard not to just surrender myself to it and refuse to wake up at all.

He already tried to do it once. The hospital managed to get to him in time but now he has to take pills.

Another thing to remember, another thing to forget.

It is a place bathed in early morning light, the kind that seems to mute things in strange ways. In this place, there is a hill, and at the top of this hill there is a stone circle. Patterns that I struggle to describe reside within it, and though so much of my memory has become faulty, there is nothing false about the patterns in the circle.

I cannot describe it not because I can't remember it, but because it doesn't make sense.

None of this makes sense.

Unforgettable.

That's what you are.

Unforgettable.

Tho' near or far.

Oh my darling, if I could see you there. Resting, like you belong there.

Sitting upon that hill so far away.

If I could only have that, then this dream I have will make sense. But I can't remember you well enough to place you there myself, though I try so hard. Some nights I wake up and I am sweating and my mind aches because I simply have been trying to get you there.

And you do get there, but not in my dream.

What is the point of that dream if you are not there?

Nt nitger dued ib a webdesdatm abd we gad ti dress yo fir ger fuberak,

My mother died, and I had to dress up for her funeral. There Qa

There was only one dress that I owned, and that was the one I had put away for my prom. I didn't go to prom that year. Instead, you went with me to my mothers funeral, and you didn't leave my sight for the entire time. I knew then that I loved you more than anyone lesne

More than anyone else.

Please remember me.

Please don't forget me.

Don't forget me, like I forgot you.

Do what you can to remember.

So we can be together, in that dream of that hill sitting in the early morning.

Feel the grass under our feet.

Feel your hand in mine.

Right now I can't feel nuything

Anything at all.

Even your hand in mine.

Y

The dream is all we have left.”

The remaining pieces of my costume arrived this week, and I think that this may be the best Halloween work I have ever done. There is a deep, pungent smell of the ink to account for, but even without it, the imagery is wonderful. The long, stringy hair of the wig took ages to get right, but I am glad I took my time with it.

I used grease paint to get the color, and that with the smell of the ink should be revolting. I am sure I will be gagging the whole time, but it will be worth it.

Something about the idea of walking about in the costume feels exciting to me. I have put in a lot of work obviously, but it has also been years since I dressed up for Halloween. I think the last time I can remember was for a party Tracy threw during high school. It was just the two of us obviously, but there was a lot of fun we got to have that night.

I'd like to think that she would be happy to see me confronting my fears like this, if at a comfortable distance. Half of me considered getting off the sleep medicine just for old times sake. Just to get me in the mood you know? But that is too much of a risk.

I don't want to think about what could happen.

The form is sitting in my garage now, drying so it will be ready for Halloween. I went to look at it tonight, and before I turned on the lights I thought I saw several other sets standing around it. But once the lights were on, the illusion was lost.

Have to admit, it gave me a good scare. Just like when I was little.

I am excited.

Come Halloween, I think I will finally be able to let go of my longest running fear. Maybe I will be able to come off the medicine if my doctor thinks it is a good idea.

We will see.