I have different dreams of you. Some are happy dreams mostly of times we've shared while some are sad. I don't give words to the sad ones, thinking that not naming them will cause them to fade more quickly, but they linger in spite of my strategy. My favorite one is somewhere in between happy and tragic. I wake feeling blue, but it turns into a smile by the time I've finished my second cup. I'm walking down our street. It's spring and everybody is out enjoying the sun after the long winter, like paroled inmates drinking a blue sky after only seeing walls of gray during their sentence. The traffic is unusually heavy and it's difficult to hear anything above the din. I happen to look across the street and I see you walking in the same direction. I stop and shout to you. I wave my arms frantically to catch your attention, but you don't hear me calling. You don't notice me waving. You look beautiful and my heart is racing. I can't believe it's you. I think that if I can get to the intersection I will cross the street and surprise you. I always loved surprising you if only for your expression. But, before I get there something catches your eye in a store window. You stop to look. You start to walk to the door to go inside, but as you reach for the door handle you turn to look in my direction. I wave to you bet our eyes don't quite meet. You smile at something or someone that I can't see as you step inside. Oh, the beautiful smile that has always made me smile in return, in spite of my mood. I rush to the intersection and soon realize that it's not the traffic that is preventing me from crossing the street. This is where the dream always ends and I spend the morning missing you a bit more than usual. But, I think, I saw you smile. Those are the mornings that I don't wonder if you're cold or lonely or thinking of me. No, I tell myself, you're fine. So, why don't you call?