I Dream of Car Crashes

Dear BearVault, 

I dream of Red Pep more than I care to admit and more than I care to, period. When I dream of him, we are always in a car. When I dream of him, we are together, despite everything that’s happened. My friend’s real life words show up in my dream: honestly, if you choose to be with him, then you deserve him.

In my dreams, I still enjoy kissing him and I love our children. I deserve him. I speak Darija like it’s no longer foreign on my tongue. 

When I dream of him, we are in the car on a too-smooth, unmarked highway. He drives too fast and smiles when I shut my eyes against the too-many too-close calls. In my dreams, I don’t use his name. He drives us off the highway and we crash into water. He loves the water, and he laughs. 

Open the windows, get my seatbelt, I tell him — and he does. 

He pulls himself onto a brown sugar sand beach. He floats atop it, his feet barely leaving prints in it. He does not help me. The water is lovely but I choose him. We walk along the beach and he’s happy, happy to be at his favorite place near the ocean. I struggle to keep up with him, it seems I sink deeper and deeper with each step. I complain that I need sunscreen, which was in the car. I call him by the wrong name and he doesn’t hear me. The right one is somewhere on my tongue, or maybe in his mouth from kissing him. I know the rhythm, but I can’t remember the lyrics until I wake up. 

Osali