There was a very brief period when I passionately wished I could have her back. It’s been so long that I have trouble remembering when it was. Maybe a dozen years ago? I’m not sure.
I no longer think about her very often — although I’ve written about her before — but I dreamed about her Tuesday night. I have no idea why. As I thought about the dream right after I woke up this morning, my first thought was, “Be careful what you wish for, David.”
In the dream, I still lived in the townhome where I lived for about 20 years in another Birmingham suburb. We had just married and she had moved in with me — but it felt more like a nightmare than a dream.
The narrative was less about her than it was about what she was doing to the space in which I lived. It felt very symbolic of something dark and dangerous going on in my mind and heart.

Leave your dead past behind; that’s not where you’re going
Today is surgery for me; I’ll give you news and be back when I can
If romantic love is mental illness, do many of us want to be cured?
You finally have to stop making excuses for people who hurt you
Snapshots of hurting people and broken families, but no resolutions
How do renegade ‘weird ideas’ grow and spread to win acceptance?
Slow death of painful past leaves me trapped in fog of depression