I Give Up

I had this horrible dream. It was so real, one of those where you wake up feeling panicky and sad, where your body has all the signs that this dream was real. It used to happen to me a lot when I was a kid. It was always that my mother died. Funny, last week, I had this sort of painful-real dream that my mom and I had this awful, hateful, knock-down drag-out fight. I told the person I am seeing about it. So strange, though, there isn't really any good way to put into words how vivid these dreams are. How much they feel like truth. How physical my response is to them.

This one was not about my mom. It was about you. It left me sad and hopeless feeling. Course, it didn't help that I fell asleep, finally, of pure exhaustion, troubled and upset and sad and feeling hopeless. This dream made me want to call you right away. To tell you I love you. To tell you I miss you and that everything else was silly.

I was just so lonely yesterday--for a lot of reasons. I didn't even want to call you. Seemed like it would make me feel worse. I would chatter and be excited to speak with you and miss you and feel how much I didn't feel that reflected. I would tell myself it was all in my end, that I am hormonal, sad already, unreliable. But I wouldn't listen to myself. So, I just didn't call.