Time Loop

I had that [[dream]] about you again.

We were sitting [[on your couch.]]

We were sitting [[on your porch.]]

We were sitting [[in your car.]]

We were sitting in a million different places. It changes whenever I [[look away.]]

I can't hold eye contact because the you in my dream plays her role too well. She is [[defensive.]]

I can't hold eye contact because the you in my dream plays her role too well. She is [[confused.]]

I can't hold eye contact because the you in my dream plays her role too well. She is [[heartbroken.]]

I can't hold eye contact because the you in my dream plays her [[role]] too well.

This is the routine: I ask how you are. You tell me about your [[life.]]

This is the routine: I ask how you are. You tell me about your [[job.]]

This is the routine: I ask how you are. You tell me about your [[family.]]

You tell me about all the stress weighing down your shoulders. Breaking your back like [[Atlas.]]

Here is the act: I [[sympathize.]]

Here is the act: I [[offer advice]] I know you won't take.

Here is the act: I [[console.]]

You're too familiar with suffering to acknowledge anything outside of it. You're too locked in. It's who you are now. [[...]]

The conversation [[lulls.]]

You can never seem to [[ask me]] how I am.

This is where it becomes a dream: I am honest. I try to tell you in [[different]] ways.

I try to do it [[kindly, patiently, educationally.]] I give in and do it with [[teeth and anger.]] I tell you clinically with [[no feeling at all.]]

We always end up [[arguing.]]

In the better dreams, you ask me [["Why?"]] and I am allowed to tell you:

"Because I can only talk with you in my imagination."