So the other night I had a nightmare. Alice and Hal were gone. That was the whole thing. Clark and I were talking and talking and then we looked around and realized that Alice and Hal were gone. It sure doesn't sound like much, but it gave me the nightmare sickness. You know the nightmare sickness? The hollow feeling that you can't shake off even after you wake, the scared to move or look around the dark room, frozen, shaking sickness? It gave me that. And I thought about saying my dream out loud to Luke, but I knew the words could not possibly carry the weight of feeling I had had and that he wouldn't understand at all and that that wasn't his fault, that's just how things are sometimes. Even real things. Even in the walking-around wide awake world. There are lots of things, situations, feelings, encounters, passive aggressive conversations, little parts of the day -- things we can't explain. So we end up plodding along with these feelings and emotions and problems that can't be understood or validated by others. I know that that is life, and that it's okay, and it helps us grow or whatever. But sometimes it is lonely.
Last night I had a very sore throat. I looked in the mirror and there were bright red swollen bumps all over my tonsils. I am overtired and overstretched and I prayed that it would go away. And it did. My throat is fine now. I just felt like telling the world.