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Last night, amidst the unusual heat, I had an unusual dream about one of my oldest, and best, friends Mildew.

He calls me to meet him at a place that could’ve been a train station of sorts. He tells me that he’s decided to pursue his fashion designing career somewheres other than Vancouver. He wanted to let me know and say goodbye.

We chat about his future, and in the background his father says it’s 11 and they have to leave now or the train/plane/whatever transportation means will leave without them.

Mildew ignores him the first couple of times and finally says he should go. We hug, and I remembered thinking, how weird, we almost never hug. And the few times we did, it always felt awkward.

I wished him luck, and he left.

And I remembered feeling sad.

In reality, Mildew set off to London for his fashion designing education 2 years ago. We weren’t at our closest then – I had my boyfriend, and he had his (whom I was not particularly fond of); I just started school, and he was about to start; I liked my new friends, and I didn’t like his.

So I didn’t let on that I was sad to see him go, even though I was.

It’s not something I think about too much, if at all, now. But some days I miss him. It’s not very often that somebody comes along and makes you feel like you can do the worst thing, and their opinions of you would stay the same because they have gotten to know you better than you know yourself.