I dreamed about him again. We were standing together, shoulder to shoulder, at the edge of a cliff. The ground was slippery beneath our feet. There was movement and he went over, and I went with him. My left arm shot out in front of him as we slid down. A small outcropping stopped us, but just barely. My feet couldn’t find a solid surface and slowly we fell, our bodies flat against the side of the cliff.
My arm began to ache as I held him back. I knew the outcropping wouldn’t hold us for long. I looked over at him and could see, and feel, that he wasn’t holding on, and that the only thing keeping him from falling was me. My arm was quivering with strain and we were slipping.
I woke with a gasp. My arm was stiff and felt like it was on fire. I closed my eyes and tried desperately to get back into the dream. I needed to save him. I saw a giant crane coming up from below, but it couldn’t reach us. I wanted something, someone, to help us from above, but I didn’t know how to do it.
I looked over at him, knowing that I wasn’t strong enough to hold on any longer. It was too late, so I let him go. I opened my eyes and pulled my empty, aching arm over my heart. I didn’t know what else to do.
A few nights later I had another dream. I don’t remember it now, but it was enough to wake me. As I lie in the dark I thought again of the dream of him, and then I knew what to do. I closed my eyes and pictured us against the cliff, only now there was no struggle, no aching arm. I felt a warm, soft light surround us, and then we were being lifted. We went up over the cliff and I was gently placed on the dry, solid ground. I was at peace, and when I looked around me, I was alone.