Cruel Dreams

It wasn't till you died that I learned how cruel dreams could be.

This morning it happened again. I was napping at a friend's house, happen to feel someone staring at me, sat up and saw your face through the glass portion of the door.
It was you.
You, as I remember in my mind, not the cancer stricken body you borrowed for your passing.
You looked at me as you have in the past. Not smiling, nor frowning, but as a mother lovingly watching her baby slumber.

You paused as our eyes met. Then continued to walk by the hallway door.
I quickly jumped out of bed, went out to the hallway, looking for you.

I found you laying in another bed, your one eye was very distorted, the eye ball seemed rolled out of place, when you saw me you turned to your side so as to hide the impairment.
You were very peaceful, didn't speak, just welcomed my embrace with one arm stretched out.
I ran to you, nestled my head against your body, and said, "So, you're not dead. Just in hiding."

I thought, "Why?" but didn't say it, it didn't matter. At that point, all I cared about was being with you.

Then, without permission, harsh reality slammed into my existence.

I am left with a compulsion to write this down, review questions that have haunted me, and with the agony of the memory.

I always end up at the same corner, "Why? Why does a loving God allow these tormenting moments?"

I think love doesn't reveal its inner core until the shell of suffering is shed. Like a pearl, it will be tested before it can sparkle.
Where there is true love, there, you will find pain.

Wasn't that what Jesus Christ has proven?
Love begins its shinning journey after death and separation.
That is eternity worth living for.