Ed came back from the dead last night in my dream. I was standing in front of a house that my parents supposedly lived on atop a hill in San Francisco. It was a white house with black window trims and a black roof. He walked up the steps and approached me, and I threw my arms around him and started crying and asking, “Is it really you?” You’re alive? You came back?!” My mom is standing there, shocked and confused in the background, and she is speechless.

The dreams with Ed were supposed to start getting more positive. The last vivid ones I had of him included him smiling and reciprocating my affection, and even telling me he loved me. Now, they have reverted back to shock and sobbing.