I’ve been having a recurring dream in which you pull up to my house in the middle of the night, drunk and crying. You ask me to get in your SUV, but I convince you to stay the night instead. I give you my bed, kiss your forehead, and cover you up, while I take the couch in the living room. When I wake up, you’re gone—there’s nothing left behind: no note, no messages, just vanished.
