I fell asleep thinking about him. About coming up from under water into his arms. How the waves of the lake bounced off the haul of the boat as he paddled. The sunlight hitting the mountain peaks, crashing like lightening, shooting like falling stars.
And although I fell asleep remembering his eyes, his voice, his breath, I didn't dream about him. I dreamt about dirty dishes.
When I got up this morning I found my dreams had come true.