Recurrence

There’s this dream I keep having. Never was one for the importance of them, apart from the ones that scared the piss out of me, or the ones that were kinda fucked up.

Mostly dreams were this topic that you’d throw up to inevitably bore the person you were talking to because there wasn’t much going on in your life beyond sleeping.

*Ahem* anyway…

There’s this dream I keep having. Simple, really. I’m in bed, the sun’s shining beautiful through the crack in a thinly veiled curtain. The room’s bright, walls white and warm, heat of the world reflecting off them. Out the window there’s a city, some houses lined up against a green field along a river. There’s a park down the way, just before a bridge. Kids can be heard, and some folks are running by.

In the air is the chirping of song birds, punctuated by the footsteps of passing joggers. Occasionally, there’s a bike. I can tell because the tell tale bell chimes. There’s a gentle kiss of wind in the air.

It’s winter, or at least close to it. The sun’s too low, leaving that otherworldly feel fall over  the place. There’s a distance cloud, lonely in the sky, hovering just out of reach of the sun’s gaze.

Back in the room, there’s a woman in the bed, facing away from me. They’re sleeping, out of sight enough that I can’t see their face. The hair colour is different every time.

I can never make out any detail beyond that. They’re fast asleep, just away from the world, peaceful, at ease. And for a moment, time stands still. There’s nothing, just this space, that noise and world outside, and this small moment in this room.

The woman starts to wake, slowly, and as they turn, I wake.

End of the dream.

Wouldn’t think much of it, and overthinking anything like this does one absolutely no fucking favours.

Yet all throughout the year, I keep having this dream.

I wrote a piece, a long time ago, about living a life in peace. Then, I lost my damn mind and ran off on a brief adventure. I’ve spent this year understanding where to go and working toward it.

It’s paid off, and very soon I’ll be in the place I want to be, with the people I want to be with, and not cut off as I am now. It’s draining to be removed, even to this extent, from the people you care about.

And yet, that dream keeps bothering me. Never was much for symbolism with this nonsense, but to have that clear cut image burned into my head above, means I’m after something else as well.

The previous time I had that, I lied to myself, and to them, about the way things were. I was trying to make the relationship fit something it really wasn’t, deep down. It took a long time, some mild depression and a stagnant job to fully realise where everything had gone wrong.

And unfortunately, it meant breaking the truth to them. And damn is that a fucked thing to do.

I still believe I did the right thing. Better to hurt now rather then twenty years down the line and live a lie that breaks, that haunts, that festers like a wound until life itself breaks down.

I still feel terrible about it. Like it hangs over me, reminding me that, maybe, just maybe, I don’t have the maturity or the head for something serious and long term. Maybe I do and I just need to meet the right person.

Maybe I’m one of these loner types and I’m just going to be working, drinking, eating, exercising, gaming, occasionally travelling and generally questioning myself at all times.

Or maybe I’m doing that “over thinking” I warned about above, and that this will pass with time and meeting more people, and living a better balanced life. One that doesn’t leave me stressed about money, about time, about work and about every. Little. Thing.

But just maybe, that dream is a reminder, that there is a life, a vision ahead that I desire that seems to be signalling something that needs to change. And that above all else, I seem to crave peace at heart.

Or maybe it’s just a dream and, like a favourite sad song on the radio, I stick on repeat and enjoy the sound and the sight that my mind conjures up.

Not a bad image though, not a bad life that appears in those hazy, lucid thoughts at the crack of dawn.

Maybe one day it will happen. Who knows?

 

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