My pondering point of the morning: How do you accept an apology when it was offered — eyes downcast, shoulders slumped — in a dream? I told him I was trying to forgive him, an emphasis on trying. But more than anything, I wanted him to own his waking actions, pathetic as they were, and he did. Even as he choked on it and averted his eyes from my locked gaze.

No one I’ve ever been involved with or ever want to know again.

But then there was the dream, butted up against this one, with a former boyfriend, a lake, linked legs, sloshing water. But with him, well, all was long ago forgiven. Outside of the dream.

Just a dream…



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