Sometimes, we forget. We forget about all the little things we still have to see and the places we swore we’d travel to and the hearts we promised to find and keep. We forget that there’s a continuation and sometimes, even the next morning seems too far away. We lay in our beds—bodies smothered in sheets, reminders of when mother used to tuck in and whisper— sweet dreams, sweet dreams

sweet dreams.

It’s one of the strangest feelings, awakening in a daze and wanting nothing but to sink and sink,

when at one point we struggled to stay afloat in the midst of all the dreams.