I should have known it was a dream. The colors of the seashells, too bright. The rhythm of the undulating waves, too perfect. The sound of the gulls overhead, too staccato. I should have known by the smile plastered innocently on my face. The fucking smile should have given it away. It was too perfect of a scene. Too calm and serene. I was happily waiting for Jason Momoa or some other half-naked god to emerge from the sea and sweep me away. I should have known.

Maybe I did know… Maybe a part of me wanted to stay wrapped in the warm cocoon of perfect happiness wandering the beach. Maybe I didn’t want to wake up to the stark reality of being alone. I was searching for seashells at the water's edge. Cool briny waves lapped at my feet as I scoured the sand searching. It was a familiar feeling, always searching for something just out of reach.

A figure of a man walking ahead of me caught my attention. It wasn’t that I recognized the square shoulders or cadence of his walk. No, it was the exact opposite. I couldn’t quite make him out. The edges of his silhouette were blurry as if I had forgotten to wear my contacts. Only, I don’t wear contacts. The indistinguishability of his person is what caught my attention. His ghost-like essence drew me to him. Of course my sea god would be wispy, I thought. Where were the bulging muscles and sexy good looks?

I dropped the seashells I had been clutching tightly in my hand, and raced to catch up to him. The sand bit into my bare feet, scraping against my skin as I ran towards the retreating figure. My heart pounded as I tried my best to gain ground, only to see that the distance between us had increased. What the hell? And then he was gone.

“Noooooooooo!” I stood there on the sea shore. Alone, wailing to a stranger. Mist from the waves swirled around me, enshrouding me as my heart ached, and I cried. Bawled is more like it. Big fat crocodile tears welled up in my eyes, and spilled down my cheeks. I cried so hard that it almost seemed real. My perfect dreamscape turned into a nightmare. I should have known this dream was going to suck when I caught myself smiling.

“Jade. Wake up!”

I barely heard the command over my sobs. I wanted to wake up. I really did. I wanted to shake myself awake, and escape this feeling of inexplicable loss. Hadn’t I felt that enough lately? Now I have to feel it in my dreams too?

“Who are you?” I asked, spinning around to look for the source. My voice was raw from emotion. No one was there. The beach was empty as far as I could see. “Who said that?”

“Hurry, Jade!” The voice said over the sound of the waves.

“Hurry, where?” I yelled to the ocean. “Tell me who you are.” I frantically searched for the man again. “Please…”

“Main…”

“You’re Main?” I didn’t understand. Was that his name? I’m all for interesting names as you know. Or was it that he wanted to be my main man? If he was as hot as Jason Momoa, he sure could be.

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“Second…”

“Second? Second, what?” What was he trying to tell me?

“Now, hurry!” The demand was so loud, I cringed. Oooh, mist man wants to be all bossy and shit.

“Tell me who you are, and I might.” I didn’t want to seem too desperate. It was my dream after all. I should be calling the shots, right?

The voice laughed at me. It fucking laughed. I barely caught the words ‘before’ and ‘lost again’ between his guffaws. I didn’t like my dream man laughing at me anymore than I liked him running from me. This dream sucked.

I felt something pulling me from my dream. An ethereal thread, or a heavy-duty rope in my case, pulled my body towards consciousness. Despite my new regime of frantic exercise, I was a bit chubby. Anything pulling me through dream space had to be strong and tethered to something substantial. A girl didn’t want to go crashing through her own dreamscape to inevitable death now did she? I straddled the edge of consciousness, not sure if I wanted to leave my mist man quite yet.

“Hurry.” Floated to me like a whisper, and I knew he was gone. I scrunched my face into the pillow, and wiped away the remaining tears. Fucking dream!

“Jade, honey.”

What? I thought. Talking was too much work.

“Wake up.”

I dun wanna. Go away.

“Jade, you have to wake up.”

Shut up, and leave me alone, I thought angrily.

“Jade…” It was spoken so softly, I almost didn’t recognize it. My eyes flew open.

“D-dad?” I stammered. It took me a moment to come to my senses. No, it wasn’t dad. It couldn’t be. Dad was dead.

Sleepily, I rolled over to steal a glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand. The blurred neon numbers shone brightly in the dimly lit room. Too damn bright, I thought while I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. I tried again, concentrating this time. Six-thirty a.m. Shit!

I groaned, and stretched out on the bed starfish style. My limbs splayed every which way. “Ow!” The pain that lanced through my muscles was a trophy, a reminder of the torturous workout I had endured. It was less about exercising my muscles and more about exercising my anger. I could hardly remember dragging myself into bed after that, but I must have.

Yesterday was brutal. I had planned on sleeping in this morning to rest and recuperate, to soothe my aching bones. Yes, even my bones ached. In retrospect, I might have overdone the exercise a little. I just didn’t want to feel the loneliness the anniversary of Dad’s death brought. The pain and desperation I felt at his loss. I wanted to forget it all in a sea of sweat.

I usually avoided the anniversary of Dad’s death by drinking myself into a stupor. But this year, I broadened my horizons and channeled the pain of loss into physical pain. I wanted to punish every muscle, every fiber of my being, instead of letting my heart bare the brunt of the pain alone.

Blinking back tears, I stared at the popcorn ceiling. I wouldn’t cry. I reminded myself that I was stronger than that. But I hated this day, August 24th. I felt the tears build, and they kept building. They wanted to be released, almost of their own volition. I’ve grown tired of feeding my sorrow to this day. I couldn’t stand it any longer. It made me feel weak and vulnerable. I wanted to scream. The anger built inside me. And in my mind, I did.