The edges of my sleep had been frayed and tattered all night, like a well-worn tapestry. My dreams, usually fleeting phantoms, had clung to me, leaving a residue of unease that clung to me even as the morning sun bled through the gaps in my curtains.
The most persistent feeling was one of profound loss, a hollow ache where something vital should have been. But it wasn't just the void that troubled me, it was the phantom of Jay that haunted these dreams. She was there, a looming presence, and I continued to feel that we were mates. This idea, the notion that our destinies were so intrinsically entwined, would bloom in my dreamscape, and then, bafflingly, a sense of serene acceptance would wash over me, and I was suddenly fine with us just being friends and then the cycle would start all o
