Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if Boris came back to life now. If he just appeared again, alive and starting where he left off. Maybe he was never dead. Maybe he was just away. I have little daydreams about this pretty often (And, sometimes my subconscious joins in and I have vivid dreams at night about this). 

In my daydreams, I wonder…what would he think of me now? Would he be proud? Happy for me? Angry at me? Sad for me? What would he think of this world? What would he think of how everything has changed yet everything has stayed the same? 

It seems silly, but I worry about him seeing me 25 pounds heavier than the last time he saw me, and then I think…maybe he’d be into my softer, even curvier body. Maybe he would love it even more. I wonder if he’d like my tattoos and my pierced nose. What would he think of this edgier version of me? I wonder if I would look older to him. Maybe he would notice the little lines around my eyes have gotten deeper. Perhaps he would notice how tired I look.

I wonder what he would say about me quitting my job and getting my Ph.D. I think he would be proud of it. I bet he would love the fact that I drive a Honda now. And that I take piano lessons. And that I finally tried marijuana. I wish I could hear what he has to say…

In these daydreams, I ponder, “what would he think of this or that” and I wonder what songs he would hate or love or if he’d be making Tik Toks. But I also wish I could find out so he could just be here again. Sometimes these day dreams are so vivid. I can picture him picking up our cat and giving her a squeeze, then rubbing her ears and talking to her in that high-pitched voice he used. I hear his laugh, and I see the way he would stand with his arms folded, occasionally using his hands to talk. And his big infectious smile. I can feel the stubble on his face. I can see the scar on his wrist from a very angry cat at the vet’s office where he worked. I wish he would just reappear like in these daydreams. We could spend days and days catching up from where we left off. We could lay in bed, and I could introduce him to Ted Lasso, and I could tell him how angry I am at the world.

What would he think of 31-year old me? How would he look at me? This person who is now changed by trauma, grief, a pandemic, and caregiving. Would things feel different between us or would it be just like he was never gone? Would we fall in love all over again?

These daydreams are so bittersweet.