I remember leaning against my door, trying to just breathe but the tears kept coming and I had started to cry big, wailing sobs before he told me to be quiet. And that was what had done it.
I don't remember much afterwards except I kept crying, but it wasn't a crying I had ever done before. I was crying with my whole body, and I couldn't stop it at all. I stood there in front of the two of them canoodling, asking "Why would you do this to me?" And it wasn't him who answered. It was the girl. She gave me this blank look and said, "Do what to you?" Then I woke up.
I didn't know what had happened, but I found myself in his bed in his apartment and the shock of the dream still lingered. I remember yanking open the door to the living room and I saw him turn around, looking concerned, and felt something inside clank dully into place.
At the time, I didn't know why waking up was such a shock for me. But it's because, while dreaming, I had already gone through the entire cycle of being confused, denied, rejected, hurt, and ignored—and this had somehow followed me back into the realm of consciousness. He was sitting there in the living room, looking at me with a worried expression, but in my head all I could see was him and that girl. To wake up and find that I had gone through all that unnecessary emotion startled me and frightened me.
I guess this dream scares me because it's rooted in some deep fear that I have of not being good enough, of not having my feelings returned, of being something easily discarded. This dream was so scary because there absolutely no law of reality that dictates that this couldn't happen in real life. That's what set me over the edge.
That's what makes it hard to look at you now.
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