The Lane That Led Me Back to Him

Last night, I had a dream about Vic — one that felt so vivid, so close, it lingered on my skin even after I woke.

I saw myself walking down a narrow lane near home. The surroundings didn’t look familiar, yet somehow I knew exactly where I was going. It was as if my feet remembered a path my memory couldn’t name.

At the end of the lane, I saw Vic.
He was standing outside a house I didn’t recognise — still, steady, as if he had been waiting for me all along.

I walked straight into his arms and hugged him tightly. Not just a polite embrace, but the kind of hug that pulls two people completely together — chest to chest, legs touching, the whole world narrowing into one shared breath.

He leaned in close, his voice gentle and worn, and whispered into my ear:

“I’m really tired. Let’s go home.”

Something in me softened, broke, healed — all at once.
I held him and began walking back with him, slowly, carefully, like the moment was fragile and I couldn’t risk waking too soon. His weight felt real. His presence felt real. And for those few steps, we were walking together again.

Then the dream dissolved into sunlight.
I woke to brightness spilling into the room.
The clock read 6:20 a.m. — half an hour before my alarm, the exact kind of early morning stillness where dreams feel closest to truth.

Reflections

There was something different about this dream — something quieter, deeper. I wasn’t searching for him; I was going to him, as naturally as breathing. And he wasn’t lost or fading — he was right there, standing outside a house that didn’t belong to this world, waiting for me to arrive.

The narrow lane felt like a path only my heart knew.
The hug felt like a memory my body still keeps.
And his whisper… it felt like everything he never got to say.

“I’m really tired. Let’s go home.”
Maybe it was his way of telling me he’s at peace now.
Maybe it was an invitation to come back to the place where our love still exists — not in the world of houses and streets, but in the quiet space between worlds where we can still meet.

Walking back with him felt like finishing something that life never let us finish.
A final walk home.
A last moment of closeness.
A reminder that no matter where we are, the string between us doesn’t break — it just changes shape.

✨ Some dreams aren’t dreams at all. They’re reminders that love can still find its way to us, even down the narrowest lane.

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