I had a nice dream the other night. Though, it wasn't the kind of freaky dream where you fly or that you're bigger than Taj Mahal. It was the plain sorta dream - a slice from life - but strangely ordinary life wasn't as chaotic as I know it to be.
There were no fights. No depression. No anxiety. No pressure. No overthinking. No sadness. No anger. No despair. No numbness.
For the first time in my ******* existence that thing shut up - it was happy, tranquil. It was so peaceful. Nothing hurt and nothing was hurting me. There were no tears, no suffering, no void, no doubts; it was like a dream/paradise.
Everything was the way it was before. My heart was full and there was no hushed whispers. No shadows telling me that I am worthless, that those around me just want something and that's their reason to stick around, no jealousy, no hatered. Just pure happiness and bliss. Everyone loved me and didn't take anything away. They didn't go. They stayed with me. They never lied, they never cheated. They didn't use me.
Is it a selfish wish? Maybe, nonetheless, the fact that that was the happinest dream I had in weeks - even months - remains. Pity I can't live there. Pity I can't lock myself in my Wonderland and stay with those comforting illusions. My illusions.
Everyone says that you are your worst critic but is it really true? She says that I'm always pointing with the sharp tip of my horns but am I really? Is it all truly in my head or is it reality? That this suffocation is due to me? That this unruly things clawing at my chest are merely the doings of their victim? Am I punishing myself or punishing others?
Oof, is such a ****** I can't read hearts. It's truly awful that I have to blindly trust and take the leap of faith. Wasn't it in the human nature to learn? Wasn't the hot stove and the burn marks on the hand to serve as a lesson? Why do they require of me to hurt myself? Why do I have to chard my skin to the bone?
Am I being unreasonable or melodramatic? Am I really the sole problem of my torture? Why can't I just let go? They make it sound so easy - so simple to up and go. So what if you get hurt? You just forget and move along.
Why is it that I can't do the same? Why can't I seem to trust? It's so beaconing and yet so horrid to imagine. I tried forcing it, embraced the thoughts and have a positive outlook. Alas, in the end, it's the same as it always is - I am chocked by the might of the wave.
Learn how to cope, learn how to adapt, figure how to take the blow, to hope. But it's hard to train an old dog new tricks, wouldn't you say so?
Why is it I do this again? I thought everything was settled, what's wrong with me? I guess...I just want to let it out? Complain? Be greedy and tire those I care for more? I said that everything was alright, that everything is settled - did I dare to lie while looking in their eyes? But I'm sure I felt the lightness, the weight subsiding. The knots lessening their choking hold from around my throat.
I don't know what's the matter with me and I'm truly sorry for wasting your time, your words, and your warmth. I think...I've become addicted to this. This 'sharing' wearing it and myself out and where in the end I succumb to a dreamsless sleep. With no figgeting, no toss and turn. No coil around my heart, no anxiety or insecurity in the way.
Maybe it's time I take a sleeping pill or something, quell my mind. Maybe it's time I take drastic measures towards this. Maybe I'll feel more or less at ease. Since, taking away my life proves too much for a coward like me.
Positive vibes, one said. I ask myself if they truly thought it or marely took pity. Truly they must be talking about the wrong gal. When I see myself, I don't see a happy kid. I don't see someone fun or loving or kind or brave - I see a shadow with hollowed eyes, sharp teeth and bloodstained claws next to the corpse of the bundle of sunshine. The riped fruit who made up tales and drew at the wall. The biggest grin and the shiniest of eyes. Carefree, never wishing to hurt a fly.
I miss her so much. I miss her positively. I miss her genuine smile. I miss her comfort and her kindness, her wild side. I miss my little fawn. I miss my light. Why didn't I listen to her while she begged for her life? Why didn't I heed her advice? Why did I dig my claws and teared her appart with the lame excuse "This is for the better."?
It was my job to protect and guide her, not extinguish her flame. It was my duty to look after her, to shield her from the bad. It is I, who was the scar bearer, the soldier who must die. Instead I was her doom, even if it's painful to admit and look at it the eye. I've become just like the monster we so fear. The beast that made her hide behind me, to seek my presence. I was the one to ruin and **** her. I let the shadows beat her. I yelled, cussed, and spat while cracking my whip - ushering her to countiue build.
Now that she's gone, just a memory within the foam, I am being slowly consumеd by them. No matter how much I seek her, scream at the winds, she won't come. She won't grace me with her rays. She won't ever sweetly say my name. But, in spite of that, I wish I could see her again...