Even When You’re Gone, I Dream Of You

I need the dreams to stop. Too often my dreams have been serendipitously interwoven with the events of your life. This has been the case so much that you deemed it “eerie.” At this point, that is all we are to each other, though—dreams. We don’t speak anymore. It is not the first time we have had to take a break from communication. Truthfully, the silence is very different from the first time around. Last time, I could go to sleep thinking I was just not good enough and you were better off somewhere else. I don’t feel that way anymore. I think I fit in your world so much better than you’ll ever admit. There is a lingering feeling in me that questions if you’re okay. Without the means to reach you, I have to just let you be. Your retreat forced my hand into moving thousands of miles away. My life has been improving. I’ve been on a few dates with different women who all had potential. But the last month or so keeps bringing you back into my sleep. Every logical part of me screams to let you go, and yet my heart refuses to rest until you’re safe. 

I am so sorry for what you have endured. I know I’m flawed and have made mistakes. However, the things that weigh me down most are the crimes committed against you by others, which I should have prevented. You gave me vague ideas of how bad it was, but after reading a more detailed version of the story, I don’t know how to passively deal with it. My whole life has been a lesson on how action can resolve any issue. Many trials have forced me to learn patience and, in many ways, I’ve grown. That patience is not powerful enough to keep me inert while things need fixing. What you and I see as “fixing” have not always aligned. So ultimately, I understand why you were upset with how things proceeded at the end of our last encounter. At the same time, I wish you could understand that I was dealing with my world collapsing for the second time and I only got to hold said world, that world being you, maybe three times during the earth’s last revolution. That is likely what killed my fire for writing. Writing was something that I started to help others and to clear my own mind. Unsurprisingly, those thoughts always led back to you. Without you, there was no longer a motivation to keep penning my thoughts because you were no longer reading them.

You have such a beautiful soul that loves so graciously. Your light attracts so many people that, inevitably, there are going to be some bad eggs in the crowd. Their sins do not obscure your brilliance. You are strong like Raya, who initially doesn’t require anyone else to succeed. I hope you can also remember that Raya eventually learned to trust others to save the day. Independence does not have to be antonymous with unity. You don’t need my advice. You don’t need me. You are amazing, and although I could try to loquaciously detail every one of your divine attributes via verbose descriptions while keeping a thesaurus handy, it won’t make a difference. What helps me write now is the thought that by some miracle you smile by reading my words. My Lord, what a smile. Your smile is like a static image that has been burned into a TV screen that will forever affect any future images. When things are not easy, that is what I remember—your smile. Perhaps that is the reason why I find it so difficult to accept defeat. 

I love you and I always will. We may never return to each other, but I wish you the best. You deserve the best. In the meantime, I want you to be safe. Knowing you are happy, even in spite of me, is what helps me sleep at night. I can’t stop the memories from invading my mind. Somehow, I am hopeful that by wishing you well and hoping for your peace, my dreams will stray from you. We all need sleep. If you need me, call me. If you don’t need me, then let me be free. I love you, but I need the dreams to stop.