Memories, Blah.

So, I was thinking about a little girl today. She had blonde hair, brown eyes, and the most captivating smile you've ever seen. She was a precious one, you see. The feeling I felt when I saw her face, was the feeling of a mother's love. Her name, was Kylie Rae, and she was my daughter. Her overalls and boots were always covered in mud. She always was finding some kind of animal. I haven't thought of this little girl in a long time.
~*#@PAUSE@#*~ I have never physically had a child, nor have I been pregnant. Just go with it, k?
Her mother and I cared for her in our home, that we had built, both by heart and by hand. Our rural home was surrounded by the pine trees of the Appalachians. I was almost done with my degree. I was raising a family. I was happily married. I was happy. Every time I have thought of her and the life I built, my heart smiles. That is, until I realize that it's all a fantasy, and the person I saw next me, is not real.
I have an angel that comforts me, and walks with me, every day. He's my Uncle John, and I am consciously aware of his presence. This fantasy that I had, was shown to me by him. He led me through the scenes, like a movie. The person raising Kylie Rae with me, also had this dream, and told me about it before I told her about having it. It all seemed surreal. It all seemed staged, but how could that have been? I didn't tell her about my dream first. In my mind, I can create a world that I can see and is so vivid, it's like the Technicolor awakening in The Wizard Of Oz, bright, and bold. I can create a character in my head, such as Kylie Rae, with whom I can bond. I can believe my dreams, because most of the time, they are similar to premonitions. God speaks to me in dreams. I had a dream about my grandpa, dying of a heart attack. The following morning, he had open heart surgery, and I had not been informed prior. I am a big believer in my dreams. I have dreamt about Kylie Rae quite a few times. I miss the idea of her. That is the hardest part of letting go, completely, of the past. I desired to make that dream come true. This little girl became my inspiration to let it be, and just roll with it. It is because of this metaphorical girl, that I want to be that person, but better, so that I may, one day, have a similar dream come true. I know that God's got it all figured out, and that I really don't know squat. I just am impatient. I need patience, and it's hard to keep up with the tests. I miss the idea of the past. I despise the person that I was, and with whom I was. I am battling with letting go of my "dead" idea; my "dead" daughter. I would never say I know what it feels like to lose a child. I hope I never have to know. I do, however, know what the death of a dream is like. It's devastating. It also makes me wonder how messed up in the head I am, to mourn the death of a dream; someone who never existed in the human form. I have to trust God. I have to. Easier said than done, sometimes.
Until next time, peace and love

May the road rise to meet you,
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
The rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of his hand.