I finally had the moment I’ve waited two years for, seeing him after all this time. As much as I dream about him, it was the first one I’ve had like that, of the first encounter. It was partly me showing up and partly an accident. I was leaning against the door when he came back to the room I had stumbled onto, I didn’t want him to catch me snooping around a bit. But I couldn’t push against it forever. He walked in with a friend and for a moment I couldn’t lift my head. Some of it was nervousness, some of it was shame.
The kicker, though, is that as soon as I did look at him, I woke up. For no reason. There was no loud noise, I didn’t hit anything, my alarm wasn’t to go off for another 40 minutes. I just woke up. Finally having that moment, and it was taken away.
If only it had been real. Because it feels like I’ll be dreaming about seeing him again my whole life, whether I’m asleep or not.
My heart hurts.
Give me dreams with demons and murders and shadows that give me a fright and gore and fear.
But please make the ones where he doesn’t want me go back again.
A dream where you won’t touch me, not really, shouldn’t matter. The comfort you tried to give later shouldn’t get to me so. Pointing to a lovely house, though abandoned, you gave me a smile. “We’ll live there one day” was a promise, not just one line of words. A promise that we would fix it up and make it a home, our home, and the answer to every dream. “You seem to need the reassurance.”
That would be because you wouldn’t touch me as anything more than a toleration. Because in this dream world of mine, you still didn’t want me. I still wasn’t enough.
And I never, ever could be.
And I hate that I still want to be.
None of it means a damn thing. Give me killers and fear and no more of this emotional bullshit. A week of them is long enough.
More dreams.
I don’t know why they’re back. I don’t want them. The world can have them.
They don’t mean anything.
Even if I so desperately want them to.
I’m still clinging to an idea.
I miss you. Stupidly, foolishly, painfully, endlessly. I don’t need the reminders every morning.
I woke up with dreams that made me wish you loved me all over again.
I don’t know how to do this, even now, when it’s long past overdue.
I have the feeling I will always wake up wishing for you.Wishing I could be what you wanted, needed, longed for. Wishing for the impossible.
Wishing for you.
Oh, the dreams I just woke up to…
I thought I was over having ones of us finally back together.
Hah.
Ouch.
Dear dreams,
Please observe the dreamcatcher above my head as I sleep. I know two weeks ago it was in a different room, but you should have already adjusted to your original place again. If you aren’t going to behave, there was no point in bringing it back with me from NL for the summmer if you’re going to give me things like that to wake up to.
I hope you can understand that this is my last warning.
I do not need the death of everyone, him, his years-ago ex, and physical contact before I’m even out of bed.
I still love you, but please be gentle with me.
Jules.
Hide me under a bed, because this is foolish.
I hate not knowing if you still read this. I hate knowing you do, and hate knowing you don’t, but mostly it’s for not knowing. I have a place to write to you when I can’t write to you, but I don’t know if you’ll see it. Although long deserted, I still go to your blog, just in case there’s something for me that you can’t say.
Yes, I’m going to be in CH sometime soon. Possibly even next week. And I want you to know and I don’t want you to know. Despite my best efforts, I still want you to show up, which if you think about it is kind of ridiculous, but I do. My friend here asked me the other day “On a scale of one to ten, how much do you wish he would show up at your door? Like, ignore other factors.” Immediately I said 10, but also a 4 or 5. Because there’s a difference between getting what I want and being happy. What if you did show up and I didn’t snap out of this…. void? Her small question scared me. I didn’t want to consider the possibility of you showing up because of all the possibilities that end in bad. What if you did come and it was all golden for me but not you? What if it was there for both of us? You would stay in the states, and I would come back here, and would that just start the last year and a half all over again? If I don’t snap back into me, there would be no point, right? You would have answered months ago if you wanted to deal with that. And so on and so forth. So, a 10 and a 4 or 5.
I want you to know because I will want to see you since you would be hundreds of miles away rather than thousands. But just because you know doesn’t mean I will, which leads into it being better if you don’t know. I won’t hold out on this silly idea.
Well, no, I still will hold out on the silly idea. But it won’t be as consuming. I hope.
For the third night in a row, I’ve had dreams of us. Happy us, happy me. Gentle love, giggles and warmth. The kind I should wake up to pain with, but this switch hits and after a few seconds of my eyes being open, I’m free of the dream. I wake up with no feelings, a complete void. Part of me cherishes that. I don’t think I could handle more physical pain. But another part clings to what should be there. I love you so much, so I should wake feeling something, right? Then that feels silly. Why dig to hold onto something like that?
I’m a master of these spirals.
I need to harbour things like this. My friends don’t want to hear about you anymore. There’s always just one more thing. You and I will always been unfinished business, isn’t that a saying? And it’s true. Just look at last week. You were the only one for my feelings about graduation, and that’s still not gone. I have a hundred tumblr pages circling you. When will it be enough?
One year ago, I woke up to quite possibly the worst dream of my life.
“Don’t you want me at all anymore?”
I can still hear the way my voice was soft but the question was sure. So was the pain when I woke up. The four hour train ride was almost unbearable, quiet and thoughtful. Every inch of the dream replaying. Replaying so I could memorize that damn line and hear it, even now.
”Don’t you want me at all?”
Hey dreams,
That is not okay.
