I’ve been dreaming unusually vivid dreams.  My dreams feel real – sunlight has warmth, surfaces have textures, food has taste and smell.

I dreamed about a girl who was not my daughter, but she was a girl I loved, and she knew me, and trusted me.  She wasn’t actually Emily, but she was about the same height as Emily, and in my dream we were walking with our arms around each other.  She had leaned her head against my shoulder, and I kissed the top of her head, and I could smell the sunlight in her hair.  And I was overcome with a miserable jealousy, because she was not my daughter, and I could not keep the look from showing in my expression.  And somehow that expression froze on my face, like a mask.  The girl couldn’t see my face, and I was glad, because I didn’t want her to see my jealousy, only to know that I loved her.  But there were other people around us, and when they saw the ugliness of my expression, they thought I was a monster.  When I woke up, all I could remember was the feel of her hair against my cheek, and my arm around her shoulder, and the shame of the jealousy frozen on my face.  I was sort of sad all day the next day.