My birthday was drawing near. So much so I was already telling Sage that things weren’t going to happen as they usually did. We texted back and forth for a few days making plans.

Sage: You are about this change thing around you?

Me: Not really. But this guy is worth the anxiety.

Sage: You sure?

Me: Yeah.

Sage: You’ve only just met him.

Me: Nah, man. He’s been in my dreams my whole life. Or so he says. I don’t know for sure since he never wears the same face.

Sage: lol. Maybe he’s ugly!

Me: And? He didn’t feel ugly…

Sage: Course not, it was a dream. Nox. He’s probably got flabby arms, and a small dick.

Me: Haha. Why do looks matter? Just cause you got a hot girlfriend doesn’t mean the rest of us get to be so lucky.

Sage: Dee is hot isn’t she?

Me: Yeah. She treatin you right?

Sage: Of course.

And we devolved from there. Into our usual banter about men and women and sex. And what he was watching, who was doing who in our former circle and of course he was telling me all about Mia’s pregnancy. Her and Jace hadn’t been trying, but when you fuck like rabbits it kinda happens specially once the condom is no longer part of the picture.

I tried to forget about my own issues with that particular phenomenon and focused on planning for my birthday. I didn’t own a lot of things, but I had no idea what to wear. Fuck I didn’t know what he even liked as much as we talked and not-talked I still knew so little. I should ask him.

I fell asleep – it was both intentional and not, I had been trying to drift off but my mind had wandered away from the object of my dreams. But as always I woke in the room I didn’t recognize. Sometimes I remembered I wasn’t five, like now. Sometimes the world was forgotten and I was lost in the world I’d created. I hadn’t figure it out. I didn’t remember the problem most mornings after the nightmares. Something we’d still yet to discuss. He still tried to wake me before I was swept away.

I knew he might not show, he had his own life, it was the middle of the day. My control of the room wasn’t as good as his. I couldn’t change it. I could change myself. I enjoyed looking in the mirror and seeing my leg without scars, but it wasn’t always me. He never showed me his self, so I played the same game. All more for the anticipation when we met.

I felt a shove against my leg in the real world and sighed, he was busy and hadn’t shown. I’d wake to Michaela kicking me or Charlie dragging me off to another therapy sessions. It was April and June couldn’t get her fast enough.