When I first met him, I wished that the song was about me. I thought it was a dream and I wanted to live in it. The fantasy of it. The part of the song that made me the object of his world. The person that would make him run around. I wanted him to chase. I wanted the dream. Now, I'm glad it wasn't. It makes me feel better to know that he already felt that way about someone else. That maybe I'll be able to escape his deepest feelings. That he would never feel that way for me again. Even if he had, at some point. It makes me wonder what a hold that there is in my own mind. I keep dreaming and dreaming. He's been there. It seems like all the time. He just keeps popping up. Like he's so ingrained in my sub consciousness that I try to work through it there. Maybe I'm no longer afraid to see him. The idea of him. The feelings. All the things I needed to heal. Maybe I'm just not scared to see him. To face him. To deal with it all. I wake up feeling strange most days. A sort of melancholy. Not sad. Not exactly happy. But that something has shifted. There is something different. About the workings of my brain. I'm rewiring and putting him there. Still trying to work around all the crosshairs. All the times that he wove himself in there and I let him. All the times that my heart was open and he came on in. Suffocating me. To the point I didn't have any room to love myself. Then for him to say I was causing him harm. That I was hurting him. I get the same response about him as I do when I speak about... well, I'm not getting into it. But it's always, "Well everyone has issues in relationships," then quickly followed with, "maybe he wasn't an asshole. Maybe sometimes relationships just don't work out." Yeah. Maybe. But then I remember curling up into a ball and crying while he berated me and told me that I was crazy and no one would believe me that I'm not crazy. I don't even know what the fight was about. It doesn't even matter. Something little happened. He took offense as if it was not a little thing. He lost his patience. He was always losing it. At the drop of a hat. "Or maybe he was an asshole." I don't think he ever did have any patience. Or at least, enough to convince people he was a nice person and then they would get sucked into a friendship with him. It's how that always happens. I think the dreams are coming because I allow them to. Because I want to heal. Because I hate having PTSD. Because I'm sick of being triggered. Because I'm sick of crying about it. I'm sick of feeling powerless because of how he treated me. I can feel brave most of the time. Or maybe I just act that way because it's easier to pretend I can have a normal life. And then one day it became more normal. Maybe it's because I'm still lonely. Because I feel like my whole life I couldn't heal without a good hug from someone I cared about. And now I just wipe my mascara and put my cold water bottle on my cheeks and clock in. Like today is another day. Like I don't have anything to worry about. I get screamed at half the week. And the other half? The other half I curl up in a ball and I heal. I hope that I can do it quickly so that I can do something else. So I can have time to be happy, too.
I dream that I'm someone else. But I keep running into him. Sometimes I ignore him. Lately he's just there. Standing there. Waiting for me to say something. I avoid eye contact. I may say things. But it reminds me of years ago. When I gave no emotions. I gave into nothing he did or said. Only answered in short to get the point across. Just, *insert word*. It helped me survive. It helped me move forward. To stop spending time wondering if I really am crazy. I mean. I was raised to attract someone like him and then I did. Heal me. Heal you. Heal me. Heal you. It's just a whole pattern. I never had time to heal me. I don't know how. I find myself searching for the answers. Maybe my brain just decided to go into autopilot to fix me. It can't be that I deserve that treatment. It can't be the answer that he is in my dreams because we are supposed to be together. I has to be that I need to heal from him. It's the only thing that makes sense. The only way I can understand why he is there lately. I knew it over and over and over again. Last night I was rattled.
We were on a bus. Sitting in the middle on the right side of the aisle. I could slip down to the edge of my butt and see the skyline. We were on a bridge. Leading into a big city. Maybe not New York City. Maybe Toronto. Or someplace I haven't been, maybe. Just the idea of a place. A place to get lost. I took the last few years to get over it all. It's because I brought him up. Friday I was talking about him. I didn't even say his name. I have to all the time now because I know someone with his name. Someone I have to talk to a lot. Either way, he was in my head again. He was sitting on the aisle and me next to the window. But I was looking over his shoulder out the other side. My side was just the water. He was just looking ahead. He held my hand. He said some words. We kissed each other and it got hot and heavy. I think that I was embarrassed that other people were around. But no one seemed to pay attention. We were in my dream, after all. We got to our destination. He looked at me. Right in the eyes and I knew. I knew his girlfriend would be there. That he had to leave. To meet her. She called and he was short and said little, but I knew. I just had the feeling. He knew when I got the call, too. When I said that I would meet them. That I would meet my family outside a little shop. Maybe a coffee shop or trinket store. Something small on the corner. He walked me there. I didn't want him to let my hand go. I held off reality for so long. There were cherry blossoms blooming. Maybe I was in D.C.? But it was almost as if it were the '70s in D.C. Everything seemed older. He held my hand long after he was gone. After he faded away. I wasn't able to go to the cherry blossoms. I knew she was there. That he couldn't bring me there, too. That he had to go. It didn't seem odd at the time. That I knew he was with someone else. That he had to go to her. I wonder if it was his mom, really. That maybe it's not quite the right time. Sometimes I wonder when it will ever happen. If it'll all just be a dream. I remember thinking of how lonely I felt. I had to smile and give hugs to two of them. That I felt suddenly so hollow. That I still felt the warmth of his hand. The warmth in my heart. But.... it was fading away.
I was at the river. There were inner tubes in a line. Everyone was waiting in lines. I got in with my family. I remember seeing how murky it was. Someone said something about my favorite vacation spot in line behind me. I was listening in then. I commented about how the water is so clear there. Not here in PA. It was probably a nod to my dad. Another thing my brain keeps pushing me to heal. I stared into the water. Seeing the reflection of the inner tube. The ripples from people around moving around. I could see the algae. The water was brown and green. I thought about what would happen if I just let myself sink. If I stopped trying to tread the water. It wasn't even hard to tread anymore. I didn't even notice how light I had become. I still just wanted to let go completely. Fall into the nothing. No one would even notice. That was the most enticing part. That I can just so easily fade away. No one would even notice.
The hollow feeling stays with me. I come back to reality. I am awake. I'm not alone. The red light is on and I'm tired, but I try to convince myself to close my eyes again. Squeeze them tight and pretend that I can get that feeling back. I toss and turn and wake up early. Because, I won't be proven wrong. Because I'll win this time. I'll get up and get to be the one who doesn't get yelled at today. But then I get yelled at and it's just all the same. I guess I still have hope.
I guess.
I guess.
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