

There was a night he messaged me out of nowhere.
He told me he woke up from a dream β one of those dreams that feel too real, too close, too familiar β the kind you only get when someone still lives somewhere in the back of your mind.
He said he woke up looking for me.
Not in a dramatic way.
Not in a desperate way.
Just⦠instinctively.
Like his half-asleep self believed I was still there, the way I used to be.
And for years, we would tell each other about our dreams like it was normal.
Like it was our thing.
But I didnβt connect the dots until recently.
The timing.
The emotion.
The way he described waking up.
The way he reached out right after.
The music he released soon after β the one about dreams he couldnβt escape.
I didnβt see it then.
But now I do.
Some people donβt dream of strangers.
They dream of the ones their heart hasnβt really let go of.
And maybe that dream wasnβt just his.
Maybe it was ours.
β kim π
