I find it so simple that a being can lull his or her self to sleep with soothing words of self worth, positive thoughts, or hopeful outcomes for the days ahead. How uplifting it must feel to drift out of the conscious world with all the dreams of the future solidifying in your mind, to only have that mirrored reflection of who you'd like to be become shattered into dismal shards of bloodied memories. The real world, I've found, is not what we experience when we are awake. No, the real world is experienced when the suppressed demons crawl under our skin and barricade our veins while we sleep, insisting upon halting our advances in bettering ourselves, proving to us that we are not as strong as we think.

Now, what about those who do not remember dreams? What do they do that makes them so lucky not to be engulfed in the nightly terrors and reminded on what life truly is, what we're really experiencing? I would never consider them lucky. They are in fact one of two types of people who are of the utmost unfortunate, the first type being those who have not yet realized that they walk hand in hand with their nightly demons in the conscious world. The other type of unfortunate soul is the one who refuses to listen, refuses to garner the insight offered to them, and suppresses yet more memories and thoughts and feelings and emotions and love and hatred until it boils up out of their eye sockets and they have no choice but to take action, whether against their own self or the beings around them.

These people, these souls who reassure themselves of their life's meaning and personal purpose each night, who plaster a smile on their mouths and a twinkle in their eye, they are the ones you should be fearing, for, if they are deaf and blind to their own misfortunes, they are deaf and blind to the world around them. They won't dream about the chaos in their brain or the chaos in society. They won't remember the day you told them they are loved, nor the day you told them they were hated. They will continue to be present in form, but absent in awareness, just as they are absent from their dreams. They will continue on down the dead end road of believing their dreams are what is planned for the future, instead of what has happened in the past. They will never learn to be strong enough to appreciate their nightly demons. They will never be strong enough to appreciate you.

You were simply sunshine in its purest form, and I, simply a shadow, a place where your rays did not reach, a creeping silhouette that trailed after you and grabbed after your own ambitions in bitter hopes to understand you clearer, but to no avail. I knew you, but only because you refused to know me. I thought I understood your motivation in neglecting me after all those months of laughter, but I later understood that what had kindled within me was simply a burial ground for all of your past memories you'd wished to discard somewhere no one else would ever find. I knew you'd forget about me the second you forgot about them, and I was okay with it. I was okay with holding on to your burdens and your troubles and your sorrow if it meant you'd understand happiness for once in life (and even if I was not the one who gave it to you).