That day, you dissolved into the air of my reality. You became invisible, silent, intangible, yet you remained unrelenting and resilient. You were present without existing. And finally, when the thick cloud of your soul became diluted in the atmosphere, I found your residue in my dreams. You smile, you laugh, and you embrace me. You talk to me. You accept me. And then when I wake up, I remember you for a minute more. And then you dissolve again.

Every so often, you reconstruct yourself into a misty fog. Why do you embody yourself into such a crude and translucent form? Though sometimes, I think I see you. Usually it’s only for a second. And occasionally, I see you for a minute, maybe even more. I know you’re real because I see you move, and I’m awake. I see you smile. I see your lips parting. But I can’t hear the words you say, because they were never meant for my ears.

I involuntarily smile when I think of you. But now I realize that it’s not really you I think of. Rather, I think of that person in my dreams. I think of the one who hugs me and talks to me. Even though you’re the one who still persists in the air of my reality, the one in my dreams is the one who is real. While your foggy self can’t produce a single emotion while I am awake, this clone is the one who produces the happiness I feel while I am unconscious. And I can only think, how lucky am I to have this scrap to remember you by? How lucky am I to have a friend to visit each night when I sleep? And how lucky am I to have a replica of you who loves me in my dreams?