I had a nightmare last night where I started the train, sent it down the track, and missed it by a ton. And he had to spend five minutes running down the track to go after it.
And they say you can’t do math in dreams, but that’s bullshit, because I knew five minutes was 300 seconds. And 300 seconds is 300 years of OBT. 300 years he spent saving up that time, staying on the field, cooking me dinner, making me laugh. Being there for me every time I was fucked up about something. And like, it was like I could see those years just vanishing from history, just disappearing.
All because I fucked it up. Because I didn’t do the math right, forgot something, guessed wrong.
You can’t see it like that. When you and your husband took your vows, I guarantee there was nothing in there about being God.
It’s never been anyone’s responsibility to do what’s impossible. It’s not yours.
