I dreamed about my dad this morning. I can't remember most of it, I didn't really want to. But he was alive and our family was together and I could just feel that empty space where he's supposed to be fill up. He was there. He handed me a folded bunch of papers and I could hear him say what he had written down while I was reading it. He loved me, he was proud of me. I looked up and was thinking, "No, you're dead," without saying a word aloud. He said "Never," and vanished.

Twice I've dreamed about my dad and twice I've thought, "No, you're dead," and ended the dream.

Twice I've woken up crying.
.

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