night, after night, after night...

I wake up gasping for air, it’s the same dream, yet again, night after night, after night...

I shudder and blink my eyes as I try to balance my world, which seems like I am trapped in a crazy kaleidoscope of colours and images which swirl devilishly around me. The misshapen loud illustrations jump at me as if they have a life of their own, coming at me with a vengeance, making me suffocate at the scale of intensity that is reserved only for me…or that is how it seems to be.

I am now sitting upright in my bed, my hands clutch my purple duvet close and tight , so tight that my knuckles hurt and turn white.

Focus, focus on a spot, my heart tells me, and everything will be alright.

I hug my knees and count to ten. Images begin to take shape and I am able to make out the edge of my bed and the haphazard array of shoes in one corner of the room.

After several minutes have passed by, my mind is now able to convince my heart that the room is familiar territory. My eyes turn to glance at my clock. The digital numbers glare at me through the darkness like beady eyes of some ethereal creature. I can barely make out the numbers.

I wake up every single night, amazingly at the exact same time. 3 o’clock..it’s called the witching hour and I understand why.

The eerie silence of the hour makes me remember the dream, and I feel tears start to well up in my eyes. I try, try so hard to blink back the tears and force them to reside within me, and not spill unto my chubby morose cheeks.

My attempts are in vain as the tears just accumulate into a big succession of heart wrenching sobs. The type of sobs that make your body convulse for just one breath of air, the tears you shed when someone dies, the moans and heartache you reserve for a love that was so profound but alas is lost.

The house is quiet and I try to muffle my cries by burying my face in my pillow.

my heart aches…

pines for air…

for love…

for life…

As my tears subside and finally all senses begin to form a delicate equilibrium of mismatched conclusions, I rest my head on my pillow and stare at the wall..wishing and hoping that if I focus long enough, a big black hole will appear out of nowhere and swallow me whole.

This dream will haunt me for a long time to come, I know. It is something I will never forget, though my heart will always wish that someday it will go and leave me alone.

Image taken from: http://www.photoshopcafe.com/cafe/