Dreaming

I had the most beautiful dream last night, but somehow, it became one of the most disturbing things my brain has ever presented me with.
I was up far too late reading a new book, the conclusion to a trilogy of zombie books. Maybe the weird cloning thing they did to one of the main characters threw me off, or planted something in my brain. I don't know.

I found myself sitting in the grass, holding a little girl close to me. She was at most 10 years old. The dream was a bit fluid here, taking on a kind of montage feel- she and I were walking, playing, holding hands, with her at varying ages and heights. She looked a lot like me, in the lower part of her face, but her hair and her eyes were exactly like his. I had this warm, fuzzy feeling- I knew she was ours.
Then, we were back in the grass, sitting under a tree, and she turns remarkable intelligent eyes on me and I suddenly knew this wasn't real. Something was wrong.
"I'm going to have to go now," she said, her tone mature and precise. "I thought we would be great together, and I wanted to say goodbye. You were the first Mommy I picked out- but things have changed, and I have to move on." She took my hand. "I'm going to miss you, but I need a Mommy who can be my Mommy."

And then she was gone.

She told me her name, but I can't bring myself to write it.

I really have no idea what to make of this. Is it some piece of torture cooked up by my subconscious? Is it really from somewhere outside myself? Is it about me coming to terms with the idea that I'll never be a mother?

I wish I had an answer.