Your eyelids having done nothing to stop the flow of tears, you were still weeping when you awoke to the smell of leather. Your face was pressed into the cushions of your couch, and your body curled up in the fetal position.
Apparently, you hadn’t even managed to get yourself upstairs and into your bed before you passed out. That had been part of the dream too.
Swiftly, you sat up. Your head was throbbing, and your fingers twitching. You longingly stared down at your palms, thinking about the touch of his hands when he had grabbed yours. Unlike the other occasions you awoke from the nightmare, you found yourself crying for a reason other than terror.
You weren’t bawling this time. There was something deep and solemn about the way you wept. Something contemplating.
The kind of contemplation that comes with the loss of your best friend, or someone…even closer…
What could you have done differently? What could you have do