Grief on a different level

Last night I dreamt about a different life, a different time... Butch and I were moving somewhere new and exciting, but he had to work that day, so he sent me on ahead. I was so excited about the changes we were making and ran from room to room, planning where everything would be, imagining us within them.
It began to rain and I was worried about the boxes still waiting to be unpacked, so I rang his mobile, but it went to answerphone....and then it hit me! Butch had no intention of moving with me, he was going somewhere else to spend his last moments - yes, even in my dream he had a terminal illness. He didn't want me to watch him deteriorate, this had been his plan all along. I was devastated, I had no money to chase after him and no way of knowing where he had gone.
When I awoke, I lay there a moment, processing my dream and eventually realised thats what it had been, just a dream. I automatically reached over to 'play punch' Butch for leaving me....and realised my current story isn't a dream.... I was immobilised as I mourned my loss on two levels. 
It's not the first time I have dreamt of Butch's passing.  I hate these kind of dreams, they give me some kind of false hope that losing Butch is just a figment of my imagination, as I move from my dreamworld into reality. I wake with a weird sort of hope, only to have it dashed as I look around and see where I am. 
I also can't believe that, after three years, I still reached out to punch Butch after he upset me in a dream, like I used to. 
Words can't begin to express how much I miss him.....
I wonder if anyone else has these kind of dreams...I guess they must.... I sometimes wish I could have one with a happy ending instead....