It's been long enough to where the dreams start bleeding into my reality.
I've begun to take count of tiny details, completely subconsciously, just to make sure I'm awake.

Most of my dreams have been reliving past memories, but one had been repeating more than the others.
It's the one where he asks if I'm okay, and I'm suddenly in my bedroom in the middle of winter.

...wait, how many flower colors were there again?