I 'm a wreck. I dreamed about you last night. All night long. (It's been a while though, since last time it happened). We were wandering and walking in the streets in London. Each of us had one arm on the other's shoulder. I was telling you "I'm glad, because I can tell you how much I do love you. " And you were smiling. And you looked happy. And you looked beautiful. We've been walking and talking together all night.
Somebody talked about you last Friday. Maybe that's why. Probably. Last Friday I spent the evening with somebody from your House. Somebody wearing one of your dresses. Maybe, yes, maybe that's why. We talked about you.
And then I dreamed about you last night. Everything was so real. Then I woke up. And I was a wreck.
A while ago, I had written these words, and I left them unpublished. What difference does it make now ?
" - (Presque un murmure) Ces jours-ci, ses parents vont répandre ses cendres dans l'île de Skye.
- Je n'ai pas entendu... ?!
- Ces jours-ci. Ses parents. Répandre ses cendres. L'île de Skye. En Ecosse. Il aimait. Tellement... Cet endroit. L'île de Skye. J'ai du mal à le dire clairement, parce que ce sont ses cendres, tu comprends ? ; ça veut dire qu'il n'existe plus. "
I dreamed about you last night. Everything was so real.
Everything was so real.