I dreamed about Sophomore last night.
That's nothing new.
What's new is how detailed the dream stays in my mind.
I was sitting on a couch in the Commons (public, but secluded, school space), and she was sitting beside me. It had been my idea to sit there with her, I had something to talk to her about. It was a nostalgia sort of thing, I think. I asked her if she remembered the day we had last hugged, which I referred to as "a while ago". To my surprise, and my dream-self's surprise, she nodded, and said softly, "three weeks and five days, actually." Then she leaned in and, oh so slowly, carefully, kissed me. I kissed back, of course. Then the dream cut to another scene. Later in the same day, I think. I was walking with Junior, and I told her what had happened with Sophomore. Junior didn't believe me, of course, and I began to panic, thinking through the event more carefully, wondering if I had imagined or dreamt it. Then Sophomore came up behind us, wrapped an arm briefly around Junior (a far less enthusiastic greeting than they usually give each other), and ran her other hand down my back, from my shoulder blades to my lower back, in a gentle gesture that, in any other situation, with anyone else, would have been weird. That gesture told me that it had really happened, that everything really was heaven.
And then, with a start, I woke up. I punched my pillow, hard, when I realized it had indeed been a product of my subconscious, and I cried for almost an hour out of sheer disappointment before having to get up and get ready for classes.
I nearly started crying again when I saw her at breakfast this morning, because I knew it could never happen.