I dreamed of him again.
I hate it when it happens. I wake up heart pounding, tears in my eyes and; the feeling of reality dawning upon you is like falling down an abyss. You hit the cold hard ground, except that you don’t die. You just start to continue living.
We were still together in this dream. As like most of the many other times I dreamed of him.
He was still so beautiful in my dream. I could touch him, feel his warmth and hear his voice. His quiet, soft spoken voice. Asking me questions that he always did, holding me like he always did.
But I guess people always say dreams carry some sort of truth that you fear facing in reality. It probably materialize in this dream plane. He’s still arguing with me in my dream. Trying to accuse me of hanging out with another guy, wanting to break up, over and over again.
And as usual, I was begging him, even in this make believe world. Begging him to stay, telling him I’d do anything and give up anything just so he would stop. STOP.
Stop constantly saying things to remind me that I am so easy to replace. Stop reminding me that I love you very much to the point I can allow you to trample all over my pride and the heart I acquiescently presented to you.
I was angry, yet at the same time, the yearning of wanting to go back to him, needing to hold him, is so, so strong. That was how I felt, every single second of my days spent with him. And apparently its no different in my dreams of him.
And then I woke up. My heart started to sting upon realizing it’s all fake and that I’ll never actually get to see him or hear his voice again. For a split moment, through a crack in my pride, I wished we still were. Even if it meant I had to beg.
There’s a saying – kinks not ironed out during a breakup, form a dead knot in your heart. When it is all over, the dead knot anchors to the bottom of your heart, ever tugging, ever cruelly reminding.
He is the first man who left this knot within me.
And I don’t think I’ll ever get over.