I had a dream the other night. My late cousin Damien was sitting at a table with me and a few other people I couldn’t name. I can’t remember much of the dream except at one point, Damien stood up – throwing his chair in the process – slammed his fist upon the table and said “Goddamnit, Willie. What the hell?!”

People say that our dreams are just our subconscious talking to us. Why my cousin, though? I know I’ve carried the burden of dealing with his death alone, keeping certain secrets from my family, but I’ve resolved that. Didn’t I? And what exactly was it that he was angry with me about?

I haven’t talked to anyone about the dream. I tweeted it as a pathetic attempt to be heard, but the question went unanswered. Sorry about that.

Binx called me around 5:30 to ask me if I was going to the party or not. I told him I was feeling sick. I didn’t know. Two hours later, he called and asked again. He tried to guilt trip me into it. After talking with Jyg one more time, I decided to go for it. I told Monica and she came to pick me up. The pills’ effects came in waves, but for the most part, I tried to enjoy myself. Being around Binx wasn’t any different from any other time. Being around Monica was comforting.

Still, I can’t help but to feel that I don’t have a solid place. People who were once close friends feel like strangers. Rather, I feel like the stranger. I hope the feeling passes, but I know better. Whatever path I’m on, doesn’t involve a lot of people from my past. No matter how much I love them. No matter how much I’ll miss them in the long run.

I’ll just have to trek forward. And wherever I come upon, I just hope I’m greeted with the warmth that I once received from them and all those like them.