Above all, beyond all, the dreams bother me the most, the worst.
They taunt, they squeeze, they twist, they leave gaps little can fill.
Breadcrumbs of hope laced with sweet honey, they offer perfection and the ending I’ve so been longing for. The winds soon gust, wiping away the trail, scattering the hope in places unreachable.
Unsure of what my mind is trying to say.
I can guess, and try to name. That one moment must be in the shadows of my shelfishness. That one there, maybe it’s telling me if I got ahead of the game things will be alright.
I guess. I push. I want to know more.
I cannot command my dreams. I can only beg for more. For more pieces to solve the riddle. A riddle with no answer, a riddle to the story without an ending.
I try to keep my mind from buying into the jumbled movies, the thoughts, the images flashed through my head as I sleep. But they weigh heavy as I keep on with the day… there in the dishes, there in the meals, there in the kisses and hugs and bed time routines.
I come to terms with the year and plus time that has passed since she was here. I’ve dealt with most of those fears, hurts, losses, struggles. But it’s in the dreams that I feel. It is in the dreams that I’m unraveled. It’s the dreams that get me.