We were driving slowly with sleep in our eyes to the bus station. I followed the rhythm of the wipers to keep awake and watched the raindrops burst. The heavy black suitcase was in the backseat tipping around with the rocking of the car. Buildings and meters went by, soaked with rain. I ask her if she wants a cup of coffee, she says no, she says, unless I want one. I say no, frustrated, hating decisions hating decisions.

And then she remembered the dream, she said, where it was all over, everything:

No, I won’t, I won’t die happy, I know it. I know it. Like all of a sudden it just came over you. And then everything kind of settled down and things weren’t flying anymore, and then everybody in the world as just getting onto these huge wooden boats, and we were all sailing through the ocean, trying to go somewhere I don’t even know where everybody thought we were going to. And then it started again. And we, for some reason, our ship like fell apart and we were all in the water. Then you were like, wait…am I going to be able to touch the ground? And you touched the ground and then all of a sudden we walked up onto land again and we were walking around with a lot of our friends, some of them were there and some of them weren’t and we were walking around with a bunch of strangers. And I was like oh my god what about the cats what about the cats and we like looked behind us and Wooten and Xerox were like, meow! So for the next like ten days we’re walking around with our friends and it’s kind of okay.

Then for some reason we were back on the boats again. You could look around in the distance and everything would just look like death. But we were like okay where we were. Everybody else had these huge layered boats with like ten different floors. They were all about to like die but we weren’t, our boat was so small and it was ok but there boat was like BOOSH BOOSH BOOSH. It was really stormy where they were but it wasn’t where we were. And you could see all these floors of terrified people, they were naked and running around and screaming. It was scary. It was terrifying. But it was good because I was with you and the kittens. And I was like, where’s Paul, Where’s Paul? And they were like, he’s on the other boat, and I was like no! No! But then we turned around and he was like right there.

When she talks about the dead and the dying her eyes search the scene, darting around the car as if she’s trying to locate the words on the ceiling. She smiles with her cheeks real tight, unavoidable like a child on a carousel ride. And she’s constantly outdoing herself as she speaks, when she remembers something she thought was lost. Especially the bloody gore, the bizarre sex, the miserable other-worldly conversations with our friends. It’s like a solitary memory game that we’ve somehow manipulated into a spectator sport, and I’m the biggest fan. And I’m a fan out of jealousy.

I don’t dream like that. I dream of office jobs and deadlines, computer programming, breakfast lunch and dinner supplies shopping, one-item lists constantly disappearing. She dreams that it’s all over, consistently, and has come to expect it as a kind of late night escape. I’ve been having a dream lately where I’m completing homework assignments. I confuse myself.

Every night while she sleeps, mouth open just enough to breathe, lips pouting, I lay next to her dreaming of changing kitty litter brands. We wake up at the same times of night, sometimes, and we look at each other and for that first second it’s the hand of God that’s brought us back together—at least for her. Me, I’ve been watering the front lawn for a few hours. Nice to see you too, though.

I get a guilty feeling, the way you feel when a friend comes home after working all day and you’re in your pajamas watching Survivor eating peanut butter with a spoon. A feeling of general regret at circumstances, but a resigned acknowledgment that that’s the way it is, since I can’t get into her brain like that Foo Fighters video and fight bad guys with my giant hands.

I shrug a little bit when I look at her and offer to get her a glass of water, but she’s already up, smiling, looking not at all exhausted, just maybe a little confused. I think it’s hard work, but nice work, if you can get it.