There's a large whirlpool in my dreams -
I sit at the top of a cliff and watch everything in the water
go around and around until it disappears.

What's in the water?

Well, there's only one thing. They're memories.
Memories of us in Paris, Rome, New Mexico, our bed.
Memories of you laughing so hard until you beg me to stop talking.
Memories of him dancing and singing until we all beg him to stop embarrassing us.
Memories of me in between you two, happy, as you both talk over me when you think I'm asleep.

You are asleep. You've been sleeping for a long time.

Have I? That can't be right. All of this didn't feel like a dream.

It was. All of it. I'm sorry you had to find out this way.

The whirlpool seems to be forever -
the memories are endless and all I can do is look down, watching them go away one by one.  

No, this isn't right at all. None of this was fake. It wasn't a dream.

Yes, it was. You need to accept it and let go.

No.
Standing up, I take a look around. I take a step closer to the edge.
Right there. I can see it towards the center.

There's a memory in the water, barely visible.

It's a child standing in a desert, crying out as the people she loves most in this world leave her. The car kicks up dust and the sun beats down on her when she chases after it, finally falling to the ground in defeat.

"Mommy! Daddy! It's me!"

That's the dream. That's what I should be going after.
It's been hiding among love. In between bed sheets and music and laughter.

You're making a mistake. It's just another memory.

No, it's not just another memory. Far from it. It's the truth and I'm going to follow it. I should have followed it a long time ago.

I take another step closer to the edge. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. In and out. Within and without.

When I open my eyes, I jump into the whirlpool.