Life Is But a Dream

Even if I were the brightest, most intuitive mind in my circle of life, I can't describe how skewed my perception has become in terms of our lives here on Earth and how our souls survive the thrashings we continually experience.
Whether it's conscious movements or emotions we naturally feel, our souls also participate in each of these markers.

As you know, I search for my brother everywhere. Sometimes I pretend I'm not searching for him in hopes that he appears to me because I'm not looking for him. But even then, I'm pretending to pretend and I'm sure he can see right through me (literally) and knows what I'm doing even as I'm thinking it.

Just last week as I hurried home from work to quickly change before picking up Mia, I walked into the house and immediately smelled Charley. The hollow sounds of my footsteps sprung off the now decorated walls and my heels clacked across the customized hard wood floors. Walking towards Charley's room and past his firefighter memorabilia, I reflexively called for him, "Hey Charley, are you home?". But as I entered his room and only recognized half of it as his, the veil fell from my eyes and my heart dropped. Charley's not here. My shoulders slumped and my footsteps sank into sorrow as though I allowed ocean wave after wave to bury me tightly around my ankles. I couldn't move. I didn't hear myself calling for him but I somewhat did in the same breath because I really hoped I'd walk into his room and he'd stick his head out of the bathroom with toothbrush in mouth and smiling eyes. A slow walk to the bed, loud shoes came off and I sat staring at my ugly reflection with reality pointing its finger at me in mockery.
Or a couple weeks ago when I walked through the parking lot at work and saw a Tacoma drive into the lot. It was gray in color, two-door and the driver was wearing a cap. I slowed my pace and took a sharp left so that I could eye this guy in hopes that it was Charley. But after he hopped down and turned to face me I saw that his eyes were not my brother's and his height was much too short. He smiled at me and I nervously looked away, Damnit, it's not him.

My mind combats my soul every waking hour in an effort to shake truth into it and speak the fact that I know, but don't believe.
When I sleep, I often wake up with wet eyes and disappointment in my breath. My jaw hurts from clenching all night and my hands hurt from keeping them tightly fisted. Dream of him? Yes, sometimes. The first few dreams were vivid and real. He visited me and answered questions in a tone and form only his soul could and expressed neutrality in the lines of his face. It's taken months to see him smile. It's taken almost eight months for him to tell me what I've always known.
The last dream I had was a few days ago...I put Mia down to sleep and walked through the house in search of him. Music serenaded my thoughts and led me to the guest room. I opened the door and there Charley stood by the closet that cradles all his clothes and personal belongings. He motioned me in and sweetly smiled at me. I walked towards him and saw that he was at least 15 years younger with smooth brown skin and lots of hair crowned his head as it did years before age and stress took over. I reached to touch him but my arm went through his transparent figure. He encouraged me to try again and so I did. My right hand touched his shirt and it was then I realized he was dressed in white. I fingered his shirt which felt soft and warm. I looked up into his eyes as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me in. I locked my arms around his waist and cried into his chest while inhaling his scent. All I wanted was to have that moment for always. My mind searched for questions but I knew better than to break the time we were being blessed with. Then he whispered, "I want you to know that I'm okay". I nodded I know and prayed that this beautiful moment was real, so real.

Then I woke up crying and wiped my face from the dream that was only a dream.