Well, I had a helluva dream last night.
My ex, the one who I've written a lot of poetry about and for, the one who died last year, was still alive. She was with a new man, a better man, a man who took care of her and showed her love and kindness, a man any person would be blessed to have. It seemed that I was with her, too, back to the way things were before everything crashed and burned--a nice poly little household. I remember telling her about my recent problems as we were walking around downtown, and she patted my head. I wouldn't say that she was nicer so much as freer, like she wasn't scared to show her affection anymore, and it wasn't as tense. Some friends and I wound up at her place with her current boyfriend or however it was with them, and she revealed that she was pregnant. I remember kissing her tight belly and making the promise that I would protect the child, because it was her child, and therefore I would love it as my own. She couldn't have been much past the start of the second trimester, if that.
There were other weird parts of the dream, like a local villain meet up spot catching a little on fire and having to be shut down while they sued the contractor for the problem that started the fire and won an $11,000 lawsuit. (Technically it was in two parts, 7k and 4k, but whatever).