I dreamed about you last night. You were as beautiful as ever, exactly how I remember you with your amazing hair, your smile and your stare. Most always talking hopeful and positive while your life seemed from my view to crumble around you. Forever young indeed and always strikingly gorgeous. You only looked different to me because your usual sun soaked skin was white as milk. You were sitting in a tower of a building that had a thatched roof, and you were looking down at me from a window.
Someone came to me to tell me that you wanted to see me. I'm not sure who it was. I climbed some stairs up to where you were sitting. I felt as though you had something important to say. I grabbed your milk white hand and your skin felt cold as ice. We walked quietly along the beach together. I asked you if you were really dead and you simply said yes. I saw all your children waving to us. We walked a little more turning on to a beautiful cobble stone path that led us through the shade, away from the blazing sun of the beach. We passed old, lovely trees and there was bougainvillea blooming everywhere.
I forgot to tell you, I miss you and that I loved you. Then you were gone.
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