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Once in a blue moon, I had this vivid dream about myself living another life. I remember vividly that I’m married and having a son. And I also remember that I feel guilty for being happy in that 2nd story square room. 

His dad was there. All of his family are there. His crazy dog. And we are there as a couple. We are all having a great time. Just like the old days. I mean, the warmth of his family basically one that I never had. And I feel so lucky to be there. It was like I was escaping from some hell hole. A big relieve. 

An affair? Probably. I mean my upbringing was build around his persona hence I have zero originality when I was with him. Yet I learn so much about life when I was with him. 

There’s no unfinished business with him, but when I woke up from the dream, I often feel some kind of loss. Weird. I guess I’m just longing to have an equal mind in partnership. Someone that’s so stubborn and talented,  reckless, volatile, and intelligent. 

And that square room. The smell. The midi we used to play. The pillow. Star Wars. The computer. Flash. Corel. Red Marlboro. The sheets. Does everything in the square room is still the same? 


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