The Dream

The dream was so real, so reassuring and safe.  We were together and able to hope.  It was in a time that never really was, but was so like ones we had shared.  It was like days when treatment seemed to work and we might wonder why we had been worried and so afraid.  But then it was over.  I felt even more alone for the hope was well over.  It could not come back.  I could, I suppose, be as grateful for dreams as I am for memories.  But it hurts to know they will not come true, as it does to realize memories are only that.  They are good for having been, but sad for being over.