Wake up

Today I heard your name for the first time in 2 months. I felt as if I was electrocuted, a million impulses running through me, all pointing to your face, your smell, your smile, to all that I did not leave myself miss all this time.
And it's strange, since you have such an unusual name. It felt weird to stand there, midway my smile, with my hands in the air, feeling my stomach bungee-jump.
It was a smiling woman mouth that said your name. She pronounced it so distinctly, so enunciated, so deliberate and yet so unknowing of its toxic effect. She didn't even pronounce it correctly. You've always had a funny name. I always used to make fun of it.
Right in the middle of the last vowel, I felt all the air in my lungs hurt and I had to let it out and then hold my breath. And yet she remained ignorant to my secret suffering and rambled on.
And it was all our history.
How we used to dream.
To work.
To smile.
To laugh and laugh and laugh till it hurt.
She talked about our dream as if it was the most common thing in the world.
Our dream, our beautiful grand dream. Oh, how I miss dreaming with you, darling. I miss dreaming about you. I miss waking up with my very first though being you. I miss waking up with you. Coming home to you. Finding you there. Staying up all night with you. Being your hideaway.
How could you? How could you make my dream come true?
How could you turn my beautiful dream into the cold reality of this woman?
How could you?
How could you?

As she finished talking, I took a deep breath and I re-composed myself. I rose from the table, cold smile on my face, cold heart in my chest, cold solitude all around me. And I just pretended it never happened. And then it hit me. Maybe I was dreaming all this entire time.

Wake up, Alexandra.