I dreamt of you last night.
You were happy. There was no cancer. There was no infection. There was no blood.
You were pretty. And carefree. And you spoke to me like you did before. And you were chatty. And i was really really happy. Happier than i've been in months. There was no more crying. And no more regrets.
In the dream, somehow i knew you were dead. But you appeared so alive. So mortal.
So i thought i could communicate to spirits. And i was really cool with the idea that i could talk to your spirit.

And then Bro woke me up.
We had to go to the temple where ur ashes rest. Where i have to offer you yet more joss sticks. Where your framed picture stares back blankly at me. Where i realise that this is really.. really... really.. killing me..