This has been the most distressing two months of my life. But, it has been two months. Flowers have died. Ribbons have been tossed aside until the next such event touches peoples’ lives. People have returned to continue their lives, and deal with their own issues. Maybe they are preparing meals or coloring eggs for the upcoming Easter weekend. Maybe they are preparing to take a trip of a lifetime in the summer. But they have moved on much as the winter of 2/14/2014 has become the spring. My life seems stuck on 2/14/2014.

This weekend I had a second dream with Dylan in it. It was mid-morning Easter sunday. Dylan came downstairs. He was dressed and wearing his black and white stripped hoodie that hangs in our downstairs coat closet today. He was carrying a large oyster shell shaped, white glass tray. On the tray, it was filled with one or two layers of chocolate chip cookies with a couple exceptions. In the squared off portion of the oyster shell shaped tray, there was a piece of paper with three columns. The first two columns were large dollar amounts, and the last column was a description. The numbers were in dollars, and they were in the thousands. Each row alternated bewtween positive and negative. The descriptions were not clear. The whole thing was seemingly meanless and did not contain a botton line.

It was kind of like this:

$32,453 $32,645 Some words here
-$32,343 -$32,245 Some other words here
etc.

It was probably about thirty to forty lines of this. It was just sitting on this tray in the square portion of oyster shape.

The second exception was one big plop of really soft cookie dough toward the rounded edge of the tray.

Dylan came over to the dining room table where Donna and I were sitting facing the front door, and kissed Donna. He was leaving. Presumably, he was heading over to Thalia’s house for the holiday. Then, he was on the other side of the table facing us. He said “I love you”, and turned to leave with his tray full of cookies, when everything fell off of the tray. Dylan was unaware and continued out the front door. Donna and I stared for a moment at what had been everything on the tray. Everything that was on the tray, become nothing but an even larger plop of the really soft cookie dough on the floor in front of the coat closet door. Momentarily, Donna got up to chase Dylan down to tell him, and I shortly followed. Then, I woke up.

Nothing is completed.

Everything is a mess.

And Dylan is gone.