"You're waiting for a train," he said as he clutched my hands tightly. I focussed on his eyes. I've always thought he had honest eyes; always felt I could see his soul through them.
"You know where you hope this train will take you..." and I believed him. Gazing into his eyes, I trusted him completely, put all my faith into him.
"But you can't know for sure..." I began to wonder – if I can't know for sure that he's right, should I change my mind and walk away? Stick with what I know is here and now?
"But it doesn't matter..." I heard the train coming and began to panic: it felt real. If you don't move now, you'll both die, a little voice in my head told me.
"Why doesn't it matter?" I knew what he wanted me to say, and in that instant I knew with utmost certainty that I didn't care if he was wrong, because I loved him.
"Because we'll be together," I yelled above the roar of the train. Then I woke up in our living room, stiff all over and very much alive. But I still didn't feel awake. Something felt wrong.
Something still does. I add a few final touches to our apartment; a smashed glass, red wine on the floor. Then I walk calmly to the windowsill, climb out onto it, and sit and wait for him.
"Mal," he says softly, gently, "Don't do this. Come inside and we can talk. Come on, come inside,"
"Get onto the ledge," I tell him. He shakes his head.
"Get onto the ledge," I say again, "Or I'll jump right now."
"Ok," he says, "Ok, I'm doing it," he sits on the ledge, just like I told him to. But now, sitting on the ledge opposite him, I know he won't do what I want him to do. How can he not believe me, when I believed him? What happened to it not mattering, because we'll be together? But he believes that he is awake or perhaps he isn't my real husband, perhaps he is just a projection like the children. I hear his words in my head, telling me what to say. I close my eyes.
"You're waiting for a train,"
"Mal, look at me," he says, desperately.
"You know where you hope this train will take you, but you can't know for sure,"
"You won't wake up, remember, you'll die," Oh, if only you knew, if only you understood, I won't die. I'm going to wake up.
"But it doesn't matter, because you'll be together,"
I hear him cry out, "No!" A second before I hit the ground, I realise my mistake. I was wrong. And it's too late.