A visit from the dead

The dead came to visit me the other night. As I lay in my half awake, half asleep state from possibly hearing a noise, I felt them rush into the room, a wave of pressure and fury. I stayed still, eyes closed, refusing to acknowledge their angry presence. If you don’t communicate with them they can’t hurt you, right? I could feel them watching me, waiting with malevolent and hungry intent. Part of me wanted to grab the 45 on the nightstand, another part of me said “stay still, the gun won’t matter anyway.”

Then all at once they were gone. The dead travel fast.

Next thing I know my alarm is going off and I am waking up with what feels like a sinus infection. Was it a dream brought on by my illness ? Was it real? Am I just crazy?

She…..

She is beautiful, but not just physically. She has an immense inner beauty from being loving, compassionate, big hearted, a wonderful mother, a friend, a confidant, and a genuinely good person.

She has an inner strength that she doesn’t realize. Overcoming many personal obstacles and working to overcome more.

She has more intelligence than she gives herself credit for.

Her eyes change with her mood.

Her eyes and smile light up a room when she is happy.

She hates my Challenger, but buy’s me new parts for gifts.

She lets me buy parts for her Explorer, on the condition I show her how to install them.

She lets me have control over the remote at night.

She is hard as a rock when her mind is made up and soft when she holds me during times I need comfort.

She is my shotgun rider in the Challenger and I am hers in the Explorer.

She is my fiancée, my Queen, my lover, my best friend, the mother of the daughters I have taken as my own.

She is Love.