text: I had a dream a few nights ago that I can't stop thinking about, so I wrote it down. I just wanted to share it with people. I'm using a throwaway account because I don't want it on my main account. This is the second time I'm posting it, I deleted the first one for formatting issues. ~~~ The first thing I heard was the cabin door opening in the other room. On the table in front of me, a pink jar sat next to a photo, the faint smell of roses radiating from it. I looked closer at the picture. A young woman, no older than me, wearing sweatpants and t-shirt lay on her bed curled in the fetal position. Something was different about this photo, however; something unsettling. A second picture, an x-ray, it looked like, was overlaid on it. I could faintly see the woman’s skull in her head, her skeletal arms clutching the same jar that sat peacefully in front of me. Large pink splotches dotted the photograph, on her head, chest, and arms. I knew she was dead. Moreover, as I stared at the pink jar in front of me, I knew how it happened. I felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around my chest. They squeezed tightly, but gently, and in that moment, I felt completely safe. Whoever this was, I loved them more than anything, I knew that much. “It came,” she observed, her voice smooth and calm. “Yeah, I just... I don’t know,” I replied. She moved next to me, keeping one hand on my shoulder, and I was able to see her for the first time. She was short, just above my eye level even as I was sitting. She was small, but not skinny, which only made the glasses on her face seem even larger. Her hair was wavy, dark brown on top, but transitioned smoothly to blonde by the time it stopped just short of her shoulders. I stopped and stared at her face. I didn’t recognize her; there was no name attached to the face, but it felt familiar. As familiar as the stars I could see twinkling faintly in her eyes, and the warm, hypnotic half smile she wore. I couldn’t feel it, but I was right, I loved her. A comfortable, powerful relationship with my best friend in the world. I suspected that’s why I was so content sharing the small cabin with her. “This is what you want, right?”, she asked. “I think so,” That was I lie. I knew that I wanted this, I had wanted it for years. But now, staring it in the face, it felt different. Not scary enough that I would turn away, but like I was standing on a diving board, waiting to jump. A chaotic non-homogenous mix of fear, excitement, and anticipation. More than any of these, however, I felt sad. It was finally over. The end of a story I hated but was sad to see end anyway. I felt a squeeze on my shoulder. “You’re doing the right thing,” The words rang in my skull like a church bell. The were supportive and loving, not spiteful, despite what they entailed. I slowly stood up and walked over to the window, it’s framed filled by an enormous snow-covered mountain. It stood stoically; its blue-gray face highlighted against the pure white snow that filled the rest of the landscape. The sky was a brilliant and vibrant blue; the weather almost deceptively calm. Here I stood, staring the last page of my life in the face. The sadness kept building. I knew I had to do it, I knew I wanted to do it, I knew it was time. But I was sad and scared, the only emotions I had felt for years now stronger than ever. The woman I knew I loved walked over and stood next to me. “What if it doesn’t work?” I asked, my voice trembling. She rested her head on my shoulder, and I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her closer. She smiled. “Then tomorrow I’ll make a roast.” Then I woke up.