I had a dream last night. I dreamt of coming home. Like any other dreams that I had, it does not have any plot or any coherency. Just fragments. Sometimes they make sense, mostly they dont. Just fragments. Peripherial. Sometimes when I woke up, when my eyes opened slowly after hours of resting, I would lie there in the warmth of my blanket trying to make sense of it. Making sense of the fragments, and most of the time I realize there is nothing to make sense of. It's just a dream, mere fragments of apparitions.

I dreamt of coming home last night. Of being home, being slow and useless. Of flying back at the end of the stay.

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When I heard your news this morning, when I walked in my half-awake state into my living room to realize there's an email from you, I was speechless. Quietness haunted me the whole day. I did not know what to think. I did not know what to say. I did not know what to do.

What struck me the most is the tragedy of how something can be a dream yet a nightmare on another occassion.

I'm horribly, tremendously and heart-achingly sorry, my dear.

The only thing I'm sorrier about is not being able to be there and hug you.

I dont know what to say, unfortunately I do not know any religious consoling sentences in this matter. Or any matter, truth be told. But I don't think you would like to hear them to begin with.

I will not ask you how you are for I believe that is a stupid question. I will not say that I know how you feel and this too shall pass because I do not know how you feel nor do I have the slightest idea.

All I can say is that I love you, and I am here for you no matter what.