What an interesting dream.

Azeem, Asif and Jo and I were all in a car. I was extremely happy because it seemed to be that Azeem hadn’t actually passed. I was there sitting right next to him talking to him. His head was bandaged and he said that he wasn’t sure how long he had . . . but he was there right next to me.  I was so happy to see him. I leaned over and gave him a strong hug, tears dripping from my eyes. I told him something, something I can not clearly remember now. I told him that I loved him, and that I respected him so much.

It felt so real, so very real. My body lunged forward . . . only to see 4 am posted on the clock radio. Reality slowly crept in and the sad realization that it was all just a dream was almost too much to bear. I wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t escape me eyes. I almost had to convince myself that a dream was all it was. I felt as if maybe it hadn’t happen. If I went back to Mississauga I would see him, with a bandaged head and his adorable smile. Falling back to sleep, I was able to dream some more. . .

I saw Azeem’s mom. Azeem was there next to me. I could see him and talk to him. But nobody else could. Was I losing my mind. He was trying to tell me his e-mail password? I don’t understand. I had to prove to everyone that I could see him and if I got his e-mail password that Azeem was telling me, they would finally believe me. I don’t understand what it all meant. He was so clear to me. Why could they not see?

That is all I remember, so I write these flashes down before they escape my mind, salty tears dripping from my face. Still a small smile, because I saw him, and spoke to him. . .

I miss you bro, I love you.

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