Beleagued

I dreamt of you (again) last night.
It was your birthday.
You called everyone, just to see if they knew it was your day. If they didn't mention anything, neither did you... But you didn't care.
Again, you re-entered my life. We talked as though we talked the day before. I stood my ground, my competitive pulse beating fast. You reacted nonchalantly, indifferently, but with a sense of sincerity.
It was as if the pride left it's place in your heart, and migrated into my soul.
You held onto "the" book. The one you had bequeathed onto me many winters ago.
I knew of it's content. Tears rolling down my cheeks.

And you knew too.