(no subject)

I woke up dreaming about Boris. He was old, and tired, but not sick, in Athens that was simultaneously full of present day nostalgia and the past as present. I was happy to see him, but it wasn't with the full knowledge I usually have; I was caught in the dream chronology and logic. I remember talking with my ex about him, about how he wasn't sick, but that I knew it was just a matter of time. I wailed, "But I miss him so much!" and then broke down into wracking sobs, and woke up to Holly Cole's version of "Falling Down" in my head.