It was hard to explain how real my dreams felt.
The coma-stage feelings were very hard to shake.
There was whole series of dreams where I was in my bed but I watched those around me watching baseball.
My reality seemed to be watching the people I loved move around me and talk while involved in some sort of baseball.
I remember them clearly, in and out of scenes. Some speaking slowly, some giving me a bath, some making me move. Always the same bed. Always the same view. Always the same sport.
Recently, I was able to share those dreams with someone close.
The room was right.
The windows were right.
There was a mirror where my dreams remembered.
The closets were even right.
I was asleep during this time.
But little parts of me were never ready to let go.