Looks like I dreamt about you again.
This has become a rarity and one that I have come to terms with not missing. Yet two nights ago there you were, real as always. 4D, a true fabrication of the person I knew 3 years ago. How strange?
Wouldn't you think I would've forgotten all of those minute details about you by now? The crinkles in your nose, the smirk you pull when you know I'm wrong but convinced I'm right. The soft, attentive tone of voice you use when you tell me you love me.
*usED, tOLD, loveD
Sometimes I look out of my window, see your block of flats and wonder what you're up to. What music are you loving? Hows college going? How's your sister? Questions I am now somewhat content with never knowing the answers to- yet I still look for you when I walk along streets you too roam, when I ride buses you also present yourself on-but you're never there. Funny isn't it?
I don't think I actually know what I'd do if I were to see you "in the flesh". I've seen you many times and my reactions never change. Shock, anxiety, happiness, nausea, anger and sadness. A day full of sadness.
In my dream you told me you loved me, that you were ready to try again. But instead of welcoming you with open arms like I have in every other dream- I was on the verge of declining your offer (before I woke up that is.)
You see, I have changed. And even subconscious me new that as much as I yearned for you, to be held in your embrace- that it would not be the same.
You knew me at a time before medication, before mental breakdowns, before self harming and failure. Before I fell into the bottom of an empty bottle at the bottom of the ocean, waiting to be dragged to shore by the turbulent waves.
I'm tough but soft, I will cry relentlessly at things but I will laugh, I will give up but I will persist, I will try my best but give minimal effort- and I do not know if this makes me a better person to the one you knew. Maybe we would now be both equally sensitive, or perhaps my newfound sensitivity would get the better of me. Perhaps my resilience is what you needed but now that it has been chipped away there would be little for me to offer.
If you had told me before that you wished to start again with me, I would've jumped at the chance, married you on the spot if that's what you wanted. But now, I'm not so certain.
Is this uncertainty a step towards forgiving? To content? To acceptance?
This has become a rarity and one that I have come to terms with not missing. Yet two nights ago there you were, real as always. 4D, a true fabrication of the person I knew 3 years ago. How strange?
Wouldn't you think I would've forgotten all of those minute details about you by now? The crinkles in your nose, the smirk you pull when you know I'm wrong but convinced I'm right. The soft, attentive tone of voice you use when you tell me you love me.
*usED, tOLD, loveD
Sometimes I look out of my window, see your block of flats and wonder what you're up to. What music are you loving? Hows college going? How's your sister? Questions I am now somewhat content with never knowing the answers to- yet I still look for you when I walk along streets you too roam, when I ride buses you also present yourself on-but you're never there. Funny isn't it?
I don't think I actually know what I'd do if I were to see you "in the flesh". I've seen you many times and my reactions never change. Shock, anxiety, happiness, nausea, anger and sadness. A day full of sadness.
In my dream you told me you loved me, that you were ready to try again. But instead of welcoming you with open arms like I have in every other dream- I was on the verge of declining your offer (before I woke up that is.)
You see, I have changed. And even subconscious me new that as much as I yearned for you, to be held in your embrace- that it would not be the same.
You knew me at a time before medication, before mental breakdowns, before self harming and failure. Before I fell into the bottom of an empty bottle at the bottom of the ocean, waiting to be dragged to shore by the turbulent waves.
I'm tough but soft, I will cry relentlessly at things but I will laugh, I will give up but I will persist, I will try my best but give minimal effort- and I do not know if this makes me a better person to the one you knew. Maybe we would now be both equally sensitive, or perhaps my newfound sensitivity would get the better of me. Perhaps my resilience is what you needed but now that it has been chipped away there would be little for me to offer.
If you had told me before that you wished to start again with me, I would've jumped at the chance, married you on the spot if that's what you wanted. But now, I'm not so certain.
Is this uncertainty a step towards forgiving? To content? To acceptance?
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