I woke up half an hour before the alarm clock this morning because of a bad dream that made me cry in my sleep. I dreamt that
armillary died (killed by a lion in Visby no less) and I cried and cried - and then I had to sort through his things and found stuff he had intended for me and I cried even more. Then I woke up and had to think to realize that this had not happened. I still feel a little shocked and sad though.
I think my subconscious isn't as at ease with him moving to the UK as my conscious is.
I think my subconscious isn't as at ease with him moving to the UK as my conscious is.