I hate to sleep anymore.
And yet, I crave the black, unconscious depths.
The problem is… The dreaming.
I can’t stand the dreams.
Falling into slumber, I dream of happy times, with someone to love, someone who cares for me, and revels in being with me.
You’d think this would make me happy, right?
But, it doesn’t.
Because…I wake, knowing it’s false.
And I have to go through my day, knowing it’s fake, only imaginary, and the crushing reality of that aches in my chest, drags in my bones, and clogs my throat with tears I can’t allow to pass.
Love passes me by in the night, teasing, mocking, showing me what I long for, but can never grasp.
So, I force myself to exhaustion each night, punishing my body and mind, pushing myself to my limits of endurance, hoping that by the time I hit the bed, I’ll be too worn to dream, too tired to see those visions behind my eyelids.
I walk on my treadmill each night till my legs scream & sweat rolls down my face. Shower, eat the bare minimum to tide myself over til morning, then read til my eyes cross & I can no longer focus on the page.
The last two nights I’ve sat up til 2am…just to push myself to that brink where I knew I would tip over the edge into the abyss, falling into black unconsciousness…not dreaming, just existing in a dreamless hover until the alarm rang 5 hours later.
I don’t remember my dreams from those nights…what a blessing.
I don’t know how long I’ll have to continue this cycle…
But I can’t let myself dream.
I can’t continue to be tormented with things I will never have…