Really Sad Bizarre Dream

I rarely tell people about dreams, because you could get a lot of things from dreams. People’s hopes and dreams, fears, a fragment of their true personality. That’s why I’m really really careful about telling my dreams, but this one, this one I really have to tell, because if I don’t, I’d probably be heartbroken for the rest of the day.

So here goes…

THE DREAM

There was a guy. He was tall, a bit pale, with light colored hair, the kindest face I have ever seen, and he’s dead. 

In this dream, he was my significant other (in real life, I don’t have shit like that, and in this dream, he’s goddamn dead, yay, me!). There was an altar, with his picture on it, in the middle of the living room, complete with flowers and candles, but there’s no casket.

His body’s is in my laboratory, because apparently, I am a doctor with Wakandan technology who can bring him back to life. How cool is that? And brought him back to life, I did.

And for a moment, there he was, my significant other, alive, breathing, smiling, and with me, but just for a moment. He died again shortly after that.

It was devastating.

DE-VAS-TA-TING.

This is a dream, I know, but goshdamn it hurts.

It felt like my heart was squeezed by pro wrestlers, then smashed by a hundred hammers, then ran over by a bulldozer. In that dream, loss hurts physically. It was like a part of me was torn away. I spent hours in front of his altar, just looking at his picture. Somebody came by and asked what I was doing, and I said “I feel like some part of me is missing. I feel like I’m not me anymore. I’m incomplete.” (hah! Even in dreams, I’m dramatic). That person patted my back and left, and I continued to stare at his picture, trying to summon memories that won’t come.

Like any normal human being, at some point I blinked, and when I looked back at the altar, the guy’s picture is gone.

I was hysterical. 

People were trying to calm me down, but I can’t. As if that picture was somewhat, an extension of my dream boyfriend. I was more devastated than before. I was begging him/his soul(?) not to go away, because I was gonna bring him back to life again. I was kneeling and crying, muttering “please don’t leave yet, please don’t leave me, I’ll bring you back.” like a lunatic’s mantra.

 Then at one point, I saw something in the clouds. Words.

LOWEST DRAWER.

Then a blue pull-cabinet popped in somewhere in the scene. I opened the lowest drawer, and lo and behold, my dream love’s picture was there, so was Luxor (my real life beloved laptop) and some papers that I have been missing.

I looked up at the clouds again, and again, there were words.

ESSENTIAL LIGHT

I muttered it out loud because it didn’t make any sense. And someone in the crowd, reacted. It was a tiny old woman, who suddenly became enraged. She was screaming and shouting that this was all his (I’m guessing dream loverboy) fault. She tried to leave, but the people (I don’t know where they came from) held her back.

She was so mad at me. She kept saying I didn’t have a proof. I tried to look at the clouds again, maybe loverboy would give me proof, but, this time it wasn’t the clouds. It was the railings of the roof. There were numbers. I recited the numbers to her, and she fell silent. It was apparently her bank account. All these doesn’t really make sense to me.

I was just happy to get the photo back.

I went back to my lab and brought my beloved back to life.

If you thought everything would be happy now, you are wrong, because holy macaroni, he died again because of some complication.

The pain was even worse. I feel like I’m dying everytime he dies, except I live to savor all the pain. It was excruciating. So when the team of Wakandan doctors decided to bring him back to life, again. I didn’t approach him anymore. He was looking for me, but I didn’t come near him. I couldn’t bear going through the pain of losing him again. What if he dies again?  I won’t survive another one of that heartbreak.

But he was looking for me. And frankly, dream me was looking for him all the time too.

So I give in, for a while I was with him, and we were happy. But then, he fell ill. He was holding me, and I could feel his heartbeat, it was incredibly fast, and then it slowed down, then slower, slower, until it stopped completely.

My dream boyfriend died for the last time.

And then I woke up.

COMMENTARIES

Holy fuckin fuck. 

I woke up feeling that pain in my chest. I carried some of the dream emotions with me. My eyes are watery, and I can hardly breathe. 

I have to consult with Dr. S.Freud again, because I am so deeply bothered. I’d edit this post for the commentaries soon. :3