Dream of Me

November 18

I thought about her face for weeks. Every night, I was hopeful that the Ember World would become reoccurring—that it would be added to my frequented dream realms, that I would be able to see her once again, and not only that, but be able to feel the unearthly calm and serenity that that galaxy had offered so soothingly. Weeks passed. A month passed. Still no sight of her or her world. I began to give up all hope. I cherished, more than anything, my vague but precious memories of my time there, with her. I felt an immense sense of loss, as if my dearest friend had moved away or passed away. It was ridiculous, I knew, because I hardly even knew her, and I knew it was impossible for her to die since she was a construct of my imagination, a figure conjured up by my own private dreams. But, still, I mourned. I wanted to feel that peace again, to engage in that honest and raw conversation with her. Watch the streams of colour dance around my limbs, feel the light penetrate to the very back of my skull, clean, pure, necessary. However, it did not come. I waited and waited, but eventually I had to pass off the dream as a one-time occasion that I merely had to appreciate with no hope of returning.

I was in such a trance that it took me an entire week to realize that my roommate had moved out. The guy didn't have much stuff in the apartment to begin with, so it really didn't make a noticeable difference when he took his belongings and left. No note or anything, just an empty room. I actually noticed when I couldn't find the cheese grater. That was one of the only things he contributed to our mutual habitation efforts. At first, I thought that he had simply taken it back in one of his regular fits of selfishness, but as I looked around more, I couldn't see any signs of his ever being there. For a moment, I wondered at the possibility of having simply imagined his presence, but I quickly dismissed it as I glanced at the hole in the wall that he had made while fighting with his girlfriend in the hallway. Unfortunately, I had been present for that exchange, waiting to call the police if necessary, but it was not because she suddenly realized that he did not deserve to even be an afterthought in her life and left him on the spot. As she left, he punched the wall, and I was left to wonder how he thought that an uncontrolled surge of rage would help in bringing her back. But, it was none of my business and I was simply glad for the return of peace and quiet in the hall.

I also glanced over the burn hole in the carpet of the living room from his cigarette—we had agreed as soon as we moved in that there would be no smoking in the apartment. I also saw, once again, the gash in the drywall from one of his drunken buddies. We had also agreed to keep alcohol out of the house. He was always late with rent, when he actually remembered to pay, he slammed the door and yelled over the phone at 4am, he left his uneaten food and dirty dishes all over the kitchen. All things considered, he was a terrible roommate in every way, but I still felt a slight pang of concern and hoped that he was doing well wherever he had gone. It was slightly unnerving to be alone, and to realize that I had been alone for so many days without realizing. I liked being alone, but not all the time. I had a sudden urge to visit my family, so I locked the door behind me and set out to transit home. On the train, I swore I saw Ember sitting near the back. I stared at the woman long enough to be considered creepy before I told myself it wasn't her. But perhaps I had seen her before, on the bus or the busy streets of Van City, and had subconsciously formulated my dream character after her. That was completely possible and that's what I accepted as truth.

I made it home and found Addy watching TV and my father working in his study. They were both thrilled to see me and I realized that I hadn't visited for weeks. Neither of them had called me either, though. That was kind of how we silently ran ourselves. There was no question that we loved each other, so we didn't have to worry about going above and beyond to prove it. Sometimes my father would stop by my apartment if he was in the area, but he had a great dislike for my roommate, understandably, and left after saying a quick hello and usually dropping off some food that he had purchased. Sometimes Addison took the train to my apartment after school to wait for dad to pick her up after work if he had to stay late. She didn't mind staying home alone, but ever since our mother died, he was extremely cautious about leaving us, eventually just Addy, alone.

"Hey, chubs," Addison turned, smiling, warming me up with just one glance. The truth was, I had lost a significant amount of weight during the last two years of my university degree, and she thought it was hilarious to call me this due to its obvious untruthfulness.

"Hey, nugget," I replied, channelling her obsessive love of chicken nuggets in the nickname.

"Did you bring me chicken nuggets?" she yelled, jumping from the couch in excitement.

"Well... no," I said, drawing out every syllable to prolong her anticipation, "but I did bring this." She waited for what she assumed I had behind my back, but I instead lunged at her, picking her up into a bear hug and swinging her around the room. She shrieked and giggled and feigned non-amusement, and my father walked into the room to see what was going on.

"Hello, son, nice to see you home at last." He smiled his hidden smile that you can almost miss if you're not looking close enough. I can always see it, though, even when he tries to hide it.

"Hey, pops. Sorry I haven't visited for a while. I just realized that the roommate moved out and I wanted to come and see you guys."

"Ah," he sighed, "can't say that Ididn't see that coming. Hopefully he's doing alright, wherever he is. I'm gladto see you, though. Are you hungry?" I was extremely. We sat down to eat leftoverChap Chae and Addison fried some eggs to add to it, but I would have been happywith anything. We talked about Addison's classes and the boy she liked, and ourfather was very uncomfortable with the fact that his little girl was already startingto talk about dating, but he tried to be okay with it.