The Dream that Made Me Cry

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Where do I start? I don’t even know where. I can’t even find the words, find the right things to say. I wonder as I stare into a bleak horizon, and ask myself, will I even find the right words. My thoughts are clouded, yet all I can do is wait. I’ve suffered too much, while the other wined and dined in happiness. In pain, I’ve lost myself again. In anguish I’ve lost my will. I don’t know where to find myself.

As I sat here alone, restless and may be helpless. I find myself thinking of her. I find myself thinking of her. I find myself longing for her. I find myself dreaming of her. I did dreamt of her. I did, yes I did. I remember rushing down the stairs not minding how steep they are, not minding the harm it could cause me, and as I finally took my last step I saw her waiting, smiling at me, she was sitting at our wooden sofa, around her was a half dozen throw pillows in different shades or brown. She was wearing a blue dress, the one she wore when we attended a friend’s wedding. I slowly approached her, she stood up, again smiling, she walked towards me, and I noticed she was a bit taller, wearing that shoes that made her an inch and a half taller. I hugged her, told her how beautiful she is and hugged her even more. Then I woke up punching my bed, punching my wall. I woke up crying. I woke up a broken man. I woke up empty, wishing I never woke up, wishing I stayed in that state. I was happy. I was complete. It was taken from me, I had her in my arms, I had her again.

Sometimes I find myself stuck, stuck here in my room thinking of how things could have been different. I sometimes blame myself for all the crap that I’m in and why I’m lost and broken. Even my will is sapped, my confidence broken, I don’t even know what to do, do I wait? Do I make a stand and take action? I guess I have to reflect.

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