Interlude - Prologue. Prologue

I lay there looking up at the ceiling, thinking. My head felt cloudy, foggy; my thoughts seemed disjointed. I wasn’t all that sure I was actually awake. But that was how things felt sometimes, almost like a dream…surreal. I closed my eyes and felt memories rush in and out of my head—veiled, shadowed in mist one moment, and the next so real I could smell his hair, taste his skin. But were they memories? Or were they dreams? Or fantasies? If they were dreams, they lingered long after I was awake. If they were fantasies, then they consumed my mind—and my body. And if they were memories, then… then there were just no words.