sam tosses and turns in his bed, the blankets twisted around him as the night drags on. sleep, once a refuge, has become a place of torment. even now, years later, the dreams still come—the memories of you.

in his dream, the world around him is soft, like a haze of golden light filtering through the trees. there’s a peaceful quiet, the kind that feels almost too perfect. he’s standing in a familiar place—a park, one you both used to visit. and then, as if drawn by something beyond him, he turns.

there you are.

his breath catches, and for a moment, he can’t believe it. you’re really here. the same smile, the same warmth in your eyes. it’s like nothing has changed, like you never left.

“it’s you,” he whispers, his voice low and full of emotion. he takes a hesitant step forward, as if afraid that if he moves too fast, you’ll disappear like all the other times.

you smile softly, meeting his gaze. “yeah, sam. it’s me.”

he doesn’t know what to say. his heart is pounding in his chest, a mix of love and pain overwhelming him. in this dream, you’re real—more real than the memories that haunt him when he’s awake. he reaches out, his fingers brushing against your arm, and you don’t fade. you’re still there.

"i miss you," he murmurs, his voice thick. "every day, i miss you."

you take his hand, squeezing it gently. “i know, sam. i miss you too. but you can’t keep holding onto me like this. you need to live.”

he shakes his head, tears welling in his eyes despite himself. “how can i? without you? i—i tried, but it’s so hard.”

you step closer, placing a hand on his cheek, and he leans into your touch like it’s the only thing keeping him together. “you’re stronger than you think, sam. you’ve always been.”

for a long moment, the two of you stand there in the soft light, just being together. it feels so real—so right. but deep down, sam knows this is just a dream, and eventually, he’ll have to wake up.

"i don’t want to lose you again," he whispers, his voice breaking.