韭伊2026/8/27

Hi, Dad.   Thanks for coming to see me in my dream.   You asked about my work. You asked if I was doing okay.   Pretty much the same stuff you used to ask.   I lied to you.I told you I was fine.   Which is kind of funny, because apparently even in my dreams, I still don't know how to tell you the truth.   But don't worry.   I'm doing okay.(Probably...?)   At least, that's what I keep telling myself.   And thanks to my brain for letting me remember the dream when I woke up.   Although, technically, it could all be bullshit.   Just some random thing my amygdala and hippocampus cooked up while I was asleep.   A fake memory. A fake conversation. A fake version of you.   Still...   I miss you so much and I was really happy to see you.   I guess I'll take what I can get.   If nothing goes horribly wrong—   and knowing you, maybe that's already asking too much—   and you somehow get unlucky enough to be born human again,   you should be old enough to drink pretty soon.   So maybe someday, I'll run into you.   Somewhere.   I'll buy you a glass of your favorite brandy.   We'll sit there and talk about nothing.   Maybe you won't know who I am.   Maybe I won't know who you are.   And honestly...   that's probably okay.   Maybe we don't have to recognize each other.   Maybe we just need to sit at the same table,   have a drink, and for once... not have to say goodbye. :)