If You Want to Stay

I dreamt of Vic last night.

We were in a house that felt like home - not a house I recognise, not a place from memory, but a space that carried the feeling of belonging. The kind of home that doesn’t need walls or an address to be understood.

It was changeover time.
He had come to pick Kenzo up.

Vic looked tired. Not rushed. Not distressed. Just worn - like someone who had carried more than most, for longer than anyone should have to. Seeing him like that stirred something instinctive in me.

I looked at him and asked, simply,

“Do you want to stay?”

There was no pleading in my voice.
No urgency.
Just an offering.

He met my eyes and nodded quietly.

And that was it.
That was the whole dream.


That nod stays with me.

Not as a promise to undo what’s already happened but as something gentler. A moment where love wasn’t about obligation or schedules or separation. Just choice. Just presence.

Maybe the dream wasn’t about changing the past.
Maybe it was about giving both of us permission to rest.

Permission to imagine a moment where no one had to leave yet.
Where “home” was simply where we were standing together.

Sometimes the smallest dreams carry the heaviest truths.

✨ Even when time moves on, love still pauses - if only for a breath.

Comments

Post a Comment

Thank you for being here.
If something you read reminded you of your own story, or if you just want to say hello — I’d love to hear from you.

Popular posts from this blog

The Gate You Once Walked Through

Image
Dear Vic, “Sau cơn mưa, trời lại sáng” There’s a Vietnamese saying - after the rain, the sky clears. Yesterday’s hailstorm rattled us all. And though the skies turned blue again today, there’s no peace in it. No sense of calm. Just silence. I’m sitting at my desk, looking out at the red archway that leads into the school grounds. And in my mind, I see you - walking through that gate, dropping something off for Kenzo. Just like you used to. Back then, I didn’t realise how much those small gestures meant - the quiet ways you showed up when I asked. I wish I had held onto them more tightly. Now, I can only see you in my mind’s eye… that familiar walk, that brief presence - just a memory now, echoing in the quiet. I wish you could see where Kenzo will one day walk as a high school student - the community he’ll grow up in, the paths he’ll choose. I hope he gets into this school, or somewhere even better. I wish we could’ve shared that pride together - parents side by side, watching hi...
Read more

He Kept Them All

Image
When we visited Vic’s home a few weeks ago, I didn’t expect to find much more than the practical things we’d come for. But then his sister handed me a small bundle of laminated photos ..snapshots of us, taken long ago. Some were from 2001. Others from seasons of our youth I barely remembered… but he had. He kept them. All of them. Through the years we were together. Through the years we were apart. Even when we no longer spoke often. Even when life had shifted so far from where it once was. And I’ve been wondering why. Maybe it was love. Maybe it was memory. Maybe it was his way of holding on to a part of his life that still mattered, even when everything around him had changed. People don’t keep things for no reason. Not like that. Not tucked away for decades. Those photos weren’t just old images ..they were pieces of our story. Pieces of his story. And perhaps, a quiet way of saying, “This part of my life still meant something.” It made me realise that even if we didn’t end the way I...
Read more

The Things He Didn’t Say

Image
Why is it that the more I go through Vic’s old things, the deeper the grief cuts? The tighter my chest feels. The more I long to see him - to turn back time and tell him that I still care. That I cared deeply. Still do. Yesterday I found one of his old journal entries, probably from around 2022, back when he was living in that rental in Morley. His words were short - scribbled fragments - but they held so much. So much restraint. So much unspoken emotion. The tension was there, written between the lines. The push and pull between wanting to let go and needing to hold on. Some of the notes stopped me in my tracks: “NT fixated on clothes/swap/wash/counts.” “Less annoyed/unsettled. Be stoic.” “NT joined us for swimming lessons Sat.” “Surprised - NT tell me about pending redundancy, then suspicious, heightened awareness of ulterior motive.” “Kenzo went into ED for vomiting x3.” “Pleased that NT included me in birthday invite as agreed.” “Overjoyed - Kenzo saying he wants to stay wit...
Read more