dream on 10.19.24 recorded at 7:14am:
everything was very familiar. the sound of the ceiling fan. the air conditioner kicking on then off. noises outside on the street; a car driving by, a soft, distant siren, a dog barking. there was quiet breathing laying next to me. my eyes were well adjusted to the dark room i was in. it only took a moment to understand i knew where i was. it was a memory but it was real, like it was happening in present time.
as i laid flat on my back, the scent wrecked me. the aroma of the sheets i was wrapped up in were too nostalgic, stirring a feeling i wasn’t prepared for. i recognized the laundry detergent. it had been my favorite smell. there was a reason for it. it caused tears to sting the corner of my eyes. i knew where i was. i was in my bedroom. the one i shared with my husband. it was his breathing i was hearing. i felt a wave of fear sweep over me. confusion. slowly i turned my head towards the sound. there he was. he was laying on his side facing me, eyes closed and dreaming. repose waxed over his features. i was too scared to move. it was true fear. i didn’t want to stay asleep. i didn’t want to wake up. was this a dream? of course it was. it had to be. before i could reason it all, i felt my body turning over. i had no control. it was as if i was forced to relive a memory from the past.
i had turned on my side to face him. my breathing matched his although i am not sure how. it felt like my heart was beating a thousand times faster than it was. was this some kind of outer body experience within a body? i’d never heard of such a thing before.
and then it dawned on me. this was exactly what i missed the most. the not being alone here. like this, in these moments, sleeping alone. it wasn’t the companionship. it wasn’t the sex. it wasn’t the conversation. it wasn’t even him. ( it was definitely him. ) it was having someone lay here beside me as i slept. to make noise. to feel the empty on the other side of the bed filled. when i went to bed, he was there, every single night. if i woke up in the night or in the morning, he would be there, every single time. we all want someone to be a witness to our life. we want a person to share things with, but this was the part never talked about enough.
i knew i was dreaming about a memory i had lived before— remembering a moment from the past within a dream. i was awake within it. what happened next, i would have to relive again before i woke up. a hushed whisper was spoken from my lips. not loud enough to wake him:
”i will always love you like this.
then it was over. my eyes opened for real now. i laid there and waited before i moved, trying to understand the purpose of the dream. i could feel melancholy and sorrow once again being laid upon me like a blanket on a cold night. it felt inviting, yet i knew if i partook of it, it would set me back. every word i said was true. that reality was the hardest to swallow. i still felt the same way i had in that moment. in the dream. that’s what scared me the most. never being there again. i had to refuse it. the grief, the sorrow. even the memory. and so i did. i refused to look back. lord, please help me. i can’t feel like this anymore. i can’t. help me to move on for good. please. if i can never go back, if i can’t have him again, please help me. desperation stuck in my throat like a rock and threatened to suffocate me. help me forget as he has. i prayed then sat up and came to write it down.
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