I Dreamed A Dream.

Lately, that woman is gone.  The one that exudes a zest of energy, possesses a smile that signifies that life is in existence, is always fighting her problems and challenges fearlessly, is gone.  Boy do I miss her!  Badly.  Helplessly.  Heart-achingly.  In fact, I realised she had left me even before I wanted to admit it.  I had clung on to the false hope that she will, perhaps, change her mind and come back to me.  I did not want to come to terms with the parting.  Heaven forbid it!  All I wanted was to clutch on to whatever that was left in my memories. 

Nighttime, I had screamed for her name in my dreams.  But no matter how loud I screamed, she did not turn back, instead drifted further away from my vision.  As if my screams were silent.

Daytime, I fidgeted because I can’t stop thinking about her.  How nice it would be if everything was like before.  But it is no longer.  Living in denial had I been.  Walking in the street without a soul was I.  Facing away from the truth became my way of life. 

In her place, another woman appeared.  Sunken eyes, dull complexion, listless face fit the description of the new guest.  Like a spell, her uninvited presence makes me feel unusually comfortable.  She has a special way of soothing my loss and the hurt that had been clawing at me for years.  5 years.  5 long years.  Without her, I wouldn’t know how I could have survived.  She numbed my pain, she kept me busy with other things, she did everything she could and encouraged me to leave the wound as it is, unhealed.  This wound would occasionally re-open and bleed when triggered by … triggered by what?  By silence?  By the perpetual passiveness and silence of … of what?  But I feel comfortable.  Why do I feel that something is not right yet I cannot pinpoint what is wrong?

I am getting crazy.  I know I am.  I begin to realize the new woman is but a foe.  Yes, she numbed my pain, but she did not make the pain go away.  Yes, she made me comfortable, yet she did not want to talk about my misery that is the root of my deepening sorrows.  Yes, she did everything, but she did nothing to close my gaping wound.  I have fallen into this dark, bottomless pit.  Cold and alone.  Dead but breathing.  Somewhat zombie.

Even more lately, I thought I could hear the sweet, honeyed voice of the woman who deserted me.  Her whispers in my dreams were deafening, “GET UP NOW!  Stop living in that woman’s self-fulfilling prophecy! GET UP NOW!  Run!  Run!  Run away from her entrapment, NOW!”   So…. she had been watching me all this while.  She did not forsake me afterall.  She still loves me.  But if she did truthfully love me, why had she abandoned me?

“Because you don’t love yourself more than I love you, because you gravely misunderstood that you deserved my love more than you deserve the love for yourself,” I could see the hurt in her eyes, feel the pain in her words, “because you have forgotten to love yourself.” 

“Each time your wound bled, my heart cried out.  However, the greatest hurt comes not from your bleeding wound, but from your brainless decision of not wanting to treat it.  For allowing that woman’s numbing methodology to work on you.  That, is more excruciating above anything else.”

I broke out in cold sweat, panting.  The dream seemed so surreal.  It must not have been a dream.

I jumped out of my bed, got to the washroom to freshen up, attempting to wash away what I believed to be a dream, or not?  Pulling a fresh towel to dry my face, I looked into the mirror and saw the woman in my dream.

Dedicated to N.