Sometimes, the dreams still come knocking. Someday, I hope to find a way to lock them out for good.
I awaken from a dream. Always the same dream....
I can hear you calling... I can't find you... It doesn't matter what I do.
The night is so dark - there's no moon, no street lights, no light of any kind, from anywhere. I walk, feeling my way. My arms outstretched, I reach for you, but my hands encounter nothing but empty air.
Your voice, it teases me. You've surely got to be right in front of me... But no, you're never there. Your voice comes from a different direction, and I turn, still stumbling through the dark, still reaching out, still trying ernestly to find you.
I encounter a brick wall, your voice just on the other side. I feel for a doorway, a gate - something - anything - so that I can get to you. But no, nothing. I try to climb, but there are no handholds, no steps, no ledge to grab onto. I cry out, clench my fists, and beat on the wall in frustration, bruising the sides of my hands and wrists. They ache and I draw them close against my stomach for comfort.
Then, I hear you again, calling to me from behind. I whip around and run frantically toward the sound of your voice. I catch my foot on a rock. I fall, scraping both knees and I feel the blood running down the front of my shins. I hear you laugh. I am gutted. I have no more strength. I sit down on the cold stone walkway and begin to cry.
Not the dainty, pretty cry of the glamorous, but the ugly, red eyed, splotchy skin, runny nosed sobs that come in waves. I lay my face down on the cold flagstones and draw my legs up to my chest.
I can't hear you anymore. You have disappeared. Again. And I am broken.
I don't know how much time has passed before I finally sit up, chilled to the bone, my body still wracked with the vestiges of my ugly cry. I look around, but it's still dark. I can't see anything. I don't know where I am or even how to get back.
I get to my feet anyway, pull my thin knit robe tighter around me, and start walking. I think to myself as I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, that surely if I head in a straight line, I will end up somewhere, where there is light and I can see to find my way home. My bare feet make little sound and leave no trace that I had ever been there. I am empty and I feel invisible in every way, as I trudge forward through the night in search of home.
I am jolted awake, sit up - my face wet with tears, heart still pounding in my chest. I take a ragged breath and stare up into the dark night. I relax back onto the pillow, pull the blankets higher and tigher around me, squeezing my eyes shut to block out the images of the dream. I shake my head and turn over onto my side, close my eyes again, and pray that I can get back to sleep. Maybe this time I'll land in the place where dreams are peaceful, I can breathe and I can find you there.
I can hear you calling... I can't find you... It doesn't matter what I do.
The night is so dark - there's no moon, no street lights, no light of any kind, from anywhere. I walk, feeling my way. My arms outstretched, I reach for you, but my hands encounter nothing but empty air.
Your voice, it teases me. You've surely got to be right in front of me... But no, you're never there. Your voice comes from a different direction, and I turn, still stumbling through the dark, still reaching out, still trying ernestly to find you.
I encounter a brick wall, your voice just on the other side. I feel for a doorway, a gate - something - anything - so that I can get to you. But no, nothing. I try to climb, but there are no handholds, no steps, no ledge to grab onto. I cry out, clench my fists, and beat on the wall in frustration, bruising the sides of my hands and wrists. They ache and I draw them close against my stomach for comfort.
Then, I hear you again, calling to me from behind. I whip around and run frantically toward the sound of your voice. I catch my foot on a rock. I fall, scraping both knees and I feel the blood running down the front of my shins. I hear you laugh. I am gutted. I have no more strength. I sit down on the cold stone walkway and begin to cry.
Not the dainty, pretty cry of the glamorous, but the ugly, red eyed, splotchy skin, runny nosed sobs that come in waves. I lay my face down on the cold flagstones and draw my legs up to my chest.
I can't hear you anymore. You have disappeared. Again. And I am broken.
I don't know how much time has passed before I finally sit up, chilled to the bone, my body still wracked with the vestiges of my ugly cry. I look around, but it's still dark. I can't see anything. I don't know where I am or even how to get back.
I get to my feet anyway, pull my thin knit robe tighter around me, and start walking. I think to myself as I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, that surely if I head in a straight line, I will end up somewhere, where there is light and I can see to find my way home. My bare feet make little sound and leave no trace that I had ever been there. I am empty and I feel invisible in every way, as I trudge forward through the night in search of home.
I am jolted awake, sit up - my face wet with tears, heart still pounding in my chest. I take a ragged breath and stare up into the dark night. I relax back onto the pillow, pull the blankets higher and tigher around me, squeezing my eyes shut to block out the images of the dream. I shake my head and turn over onto my side, close my eyes again, and pray that I can get back to sleep. Maybe this time I'll land in the place where dreams are peaceful, I can breathe and I can find you there.
56-60, F
