Missing

I woke up slowly at about four in the morning, completely conscious of each phase of waking, as if I were watching myself from outside. And along with it, came this bizzare sense of loneliness. It wasn't a sadness, but more a joyful longing for everyone in my life, just about everyone. (Then came the dreams: about the bleeding finger, the yellow dirt, and someone I knew from Chicago.) I wondered what that same emotion would have felt like if I weren't asleep when it hit.