Oh god. It started off as a regular dream - I was getting ready for work, chatting with people, going for a drive, etc etc.. and then I saw someone I hadn't seen for a while, and I "remembered" that my brother Al - my wonderful, clever, goofy Al - was dead. I bawled and bawled and sobbed and cried, and when I woke I thought, "Oh, it was just a dream," and then I immediately thought, "Oh no, it's the truth and I had to wake to it!" and I started to cry for real, and then immediately I realized, "no, not the truth, it's not true, oh thank god" but I couldn't stop crying.

My Al. I'm choking up now. It's a recurring fear I have, that I'm going to lose Al. It's worse than my fears of losing my parents, and as far as deep dark fears go, it's right up there with my house catching on fire while I'm in it. This isn't something like being afraid of heights - that's just vertigo. This is a heart-tearing, breath-stealing panic of losing one I love over nearly all in this world. Yes, even Kevin; as much as I love him, he's not entrenched in my heart by time the way Al is. And no, it's not the same kind of love - one is sister-brotherly and protective, and one is passionate and romantic - but you can't tell me one is stronger than the other. I am sure that in twenty-five more years (fuck, probably much less than that) I'll feel the same panic about Kev, but right now the only one who's been in my life that long is Al. We've been best friends forever.

I dream of it and think of it often enough that I am starting to frighten myself that it's a premonition. And I always think of the old folktales: you shouldn't love something this much, because the gods will take it away. It's a terrifying thought.

Excuse me. I think I have to go call my brother.

today, i am: