{"id":16197,"date":"2025-10-10T21:09:19","date_gmt":"2025-10-10T21:09:19","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/readmore.cx\/?p=16197"},"modified":"2025-10-10T21:11:54","modified_gmt":"2025-10-10T21:11:54","slug":"16197","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/readmore.cx\/?p=16197","title":{"rendered":""},"content":{"rendered":"

Within minutes, the world would blur at the edges. My thoughts would dissolve into mist. The last thing I\u2019d see was his silhouette standing by the bed, always watching, always calm. Then darkness \u2014 thick, dreamless, absolute.<\/p>\n

Or at least, that\u2019s what I believed for twenty years.<\/p>\n

The Dreams That Weren\u2019t Dreams<\/b><\/h2>\n

Sometimes, through the fog, fragments would appear. Music. Laughter. The sound of clinking glasses echoing somewhere in the house. At times, I thought I heard voices \u2014 too many, too loud \u2014 but when I woke in the morning, the air was still, my home spotless.<\/p>\n

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Within minutes, the world would blur at the edges. My thoughts would dissolve into mist. The last thing I\u2019d see was his silhouette standing by the bed, always watching, always calm. Then darkness \u2014 thick, dreamless, absolute. Or at least, that\u2019s what I believed for twenty years. The Dreams That Weren\u2019t Dreams Sometimes, through the…<\/p>\n

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