In dreams, he comes

Since the night before Ed passed, he’s come to me in dreams many times. During the twelve days I was home in San Francisco, when I’d awaken, I’d remember no dreams of any sort. Since I have come back to New York, I seem to remember him coming to me every few nights.

In one dream, Chris and I have taken him on a trip to Memphis, Tennessee, where the three of us are all sitting at a round table eating barbeque ribs at Rendez Vous, a restaurant I’d wanted to try when I was there in 2010, but the lines were too long. Ed loved barbeque, and like most men, adored ribs. This is when we thought the Bart Simpson figurine inspiration would be most fitting to memorialize him. Ed can still travel the world with us.

In the same night, I dreamt I was signed into my GMail account, and I saw him on Google Chat, so I instant messaged him and chatted with him. I told him how mad I was at him for leaving me alone in this world, and how much I missed him and wanted him to come back. He simply said, “I’m sorry.”

In another dream, he went to the top of a building and jumped off. He was rushed to the hospital, where I met him. He regained consciousness for a little bit, got out of his bed, talked to me for a bit, stumbled, fell, and then died. I woke up crying.

Three nights ago, I dreamt that he called me while I was in New York and told me he ate something bad. He said he had some blue cheese that was odd (Ed always hated blue cheese), and it was making his stomach turn. I advised him to drink some hot, clear liquids and rest. A few hours later, my mom calls me to tell me that Ed died from food poisoning.

Last night, I had a dream that I was working in San Francisco (it’s unclear if I am there temporarily for work or living at home again), and I had a really bad day at the office. I came home feeling very upset, and then when I walk through the front door, there is Ed, sitting with his head in his hands at the dining room table. My heart is pounding when I see him, and I run up to him and embrace him tightly. The feel of his arms around me is so real that for a few seconds, I really think that this dream is real. I start crying, and I keep repeating over and over, “Are you really here? Did all of that stuff never happen?” And he is confused, holding me firmly in his strong arms, and says to me that he has no idea what I am talking about, and that I should calm down.

I don’t know where you are exactly in heaven, Ed, but all I do know is that you are out there somewhere. But where I really want you is right here with me, alive and breathing and smiling — forever. I would even pay your rent if you were willing to come back, and I don’t pay anyone else’s rent. I still want you back.

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