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Dreamer

I used to like dreaming. I would dream of growing meadows and tall grass blowing in the light, warm breeze. I would dream of music, bright colors, vivid scenery. It used to be my favorite thing. My favorite place to go to get away from this thing we call "life". But now I'm realizing that dreaming has a dark twist. What you think about, you dream about. So even though you have left me broken and alone, you still come and visit me in my dreams. It's like you never left. In my dreams, you're beside me again. Smiling and laughing. Hugging me and gently kissing my face. They're so close to memories that it makes me hate dreaming because in those 6 seconds in waking up, I'm so violently confused. Why aren't you here laying beside me? Where are you? Why am I alone? All these questions hit me in those few seconds before reality lays it's cold hand on me and shocks understanding into my bones. Dreaming isn't fun when I dream of you. Maybe that's why I have dark circles under my eyes every day. Maybe that's why my eyes are a hot red shade of anger and regret rolled into one. Dreaming has finally taken it's toll.



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