Dreams and Life.

 People say you never remember your dreams. But I do. I remember every single thing I witness at the absence of my conscience. Everything my subconscious tortures me into witnessing. It is a weird experience, waking up and realizing that all that torture, all that torment, it was all something my own mind created. Sometimes, I am deeply in awe of the way the dreams trick me into thinking they are real, but most times, I just wake up crying.  I hate feeling like an outsider in my own body. I hate the fact that I have to relive my worst fears every night. I will give this though, they are always new. My brain likes to keep the torture interesting. Never the same thing twice. 

Are those what you call nightmares? I do not know. Maybe they are. Or maybe, I am exaggerating. After all, I am a writer. I will never know. What I do know is, I have fallen into a deep cycle. A cycle where I chase after a love I know I'll never get. My dreams are just witnesses to the harm I've been through. The harm I've put myself through. No one has and no one ever will hurt me like I've hurt myself. I've never physically harmed myself, I'm too much of a coward to do that. But mentally, I've been creating these scars, scars that seem so little to everyone, scars that keep eating me alive. And I let it. I've never made an effort to stop that pain. That torture. I don't know who I am without that, and I'm too scared to find out. Maybe, I deserve this. Maybe this is all I'm worth. Maybe, just maybe, I wish for more than I deserve. 

But, I will never know. For I will keep letting those scars eat me alive, long after my body rots in the grave. For it is the body that has an expiration date, not the soul. I will let it consume me whole, and one day, I will find happiness in that pain. I will remember those dreams, for they were never just dreams but rather, what I went through playing on repeat. I will wish for more, but never get it, for this is all I deserve. Life is weird.