But Ethan, when did you get here?

I had a dream about you last night. It was blurred, and moved quickly. You stood before me, my face buried in your chest, crying. I begged you to love me, I begged you to stay with me and not leave.

Then I was on a train and there were a dozen people around me, all laughing and screaming. But I sat there, tears streaming down my face, heart breaking, dialing your number frantically on my cell phone.

"I'm fishing today," you said, "before the wedding."

"But I love you," I answered. "Tell me you love me too."

But I didn't hear you reply. The train stopped and began to empty. I stood on the platform, trying unsuccessfully to get your voice back. A man stopped to ask me what was wrong, and I stood there, crying, wishing I had never walked away from you, though it was the only option at the time. He hugged me, revealing he was Ethan Hawke, and I told him I loved him in 'Explorers' and fought the urge to ask if him and Uma really were breaking up.

Suddenly I was in a corner, and Bryan Adams, my old high school buddy, stood before me. He hugged me, rubbing the top of my head like he used to, and kissed me. "Feel better?" he asked.

I sobbed, my chest feeling heavy and downtrodden. And the dream disappeared.

I've had dreams like this before, always this vivid. Dreams before, like standing at your house, looking through the windows at you and a party, seeing your smile, hearing your voice, hearing your laugh, unable to find the door to get in. And the other way - inside the house, surrounded by people, only able to catch a glimpse of you every once in a while and never able to actually get near you. Recurring dreams.

You're getting married today, 3200 miles away from me.

And it still makes me cry.