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You keep appearing in my dreams. It's not some dramatic moment where we reunite and proclaim our lost love or acknowledge that we barely know each other anymore. We're just together. I come home to you making some sort of casserole and shuffling disassembled electronics around on the table to make room for plates. We're lying in bed together finding animal shapes in crumbling ceiling tiles. You're reading our car's manual and convincing me that we can totally fix it ourselves. You're sitting on the floor playing guitar while I rest my head on your outstretched legs and feel the vibration in your shinbone. You pause mid song to brush my hair out of my face.