I dreamed I got out of bed in the middle of the night and went into the bathroom to put water on my face.
As I looked up, groping for a towel to wipe my face, there, standing at the sink right next to me, we don’t have two sinks in our bathroom, was Ian, looking just like himself in one of the plaid flannel shirts
I bought him, stretched tautly over his deliciously- broad shoulders, and blue jeans and his blue eyes.
He was just standing there, casually looking into the mirror, as if he had been there all his life.
I screamed and threw myself at him.
“What are you doing here,” I shrieked. “How did you get here?”
“I wanted to surprise you,” he said, as calmly and evenly as he says just about everything.
I should have known right there that this was a dream because surprising people, or planning anything ahead of time, is not Ian’s style, but I wanted so much for this dream to be true I ignored all of that.
And I held him, just held him, until I woke up and he was not here.