A couple nights ago I had a dream. I've been having a lot of dreams since I
started antidepressants, after something like a decade of not dreaming at all.
Or at least not remembering them. But since I started taking antidepressants,
I started dreaming again. The dreams are rarely good though.

This one wasn't either. I don't even remember the context anymore, I just
remember a moment of falling on the ground over a big black cat. A cat that
I knew instantly was my black cat who died a couple of months ago (a couple
of months! The wound still feels fresh), whose life left his body with his
chin on my leg in an emergency veterinary clinic at two in the morning. But
here he was, alive, happy to see me, and I curled over him and cried.

I have had other dreams about him. A lot of animals have come and gone over
the course of my life. You never get used to it. But the pain of his loss
is enormous. I knew he would die someday but it was too soon. There's such
a big gap left in the space he used to take up.