Blowing Out The Candles in My Dreams

I woke up this morning with tears tracing down my face.

I’d had a dream, & I remembered most of it.

I had gone with my cousin to a bookstore. Now, this particular cousin is more like a sister to me. She & I grew up extremely close. We’re only 10 months apart in age (I’m the elder, not that that really matters, but I could see you out there, wondering).

We used to spend our summers together, my aunt (my uncle had died when we were very little) would send her to our house for a few weeks, then later, I’d go stay with them for a few weeks in southern Minnesota.

We squabbled like siblings, we laughed like best friends, & we ganged up our parents, & snuck around as teenagers do, just as though we were more than mere cousins.

So, when I talk about my cousin “L”, it’s more as though I’m talking about a sister I never had.

Back to the dream. L & I had entered this super cool bookstore, which came complete with its own specialty bakery &, of course, cafe/coffee shop.

You were even able to special-order decorated cakes for occasions, & the bakers would decorate them to your specifications.

In my dream, I hadn’t had my birthday yet. This is important, later.

We browsed a bit, found books to buy, & sat in the cafe & had some cake, talking about things, catching up, since I haven’t seen L for a while. (Truth, it’s been months, & we would do this naturally)

L talks a mile a minute, so I let her blow her steam, keeping quiet & enjoying my cake, knowing she’ll listen when I tell her about my life. She always does, but, as an only child, she’s used to certain things, always being able to go first in a conversation being one of those things. I don’t mind.

Some who think they know me might scoff, but I really am quiet. When I care about someone, I’ll just sit & wait for the other person to talk themselves out completely before I speak, giving them my full attention the whole time.

When we were finished, we packed up & got ready to leave.

But first, I went over to the specialty cakes area. I’d seen a cake I wanted for my birthday, which, in my dream, hadn’t happened yet. And all I wanted was for the decorator to do some simple words on top – nothing major or fancy.

I’d filled out an order card with my contact information, & gave it to the bakery for the special-ordered layer cake.

When I spoke to the decorator about the cake, she misunderstood me 3 times, pulling out 3 different cakes, none of which were the ones I wanted. So, I finally walked her to the case & showed her the exact cake I wanted & told her that all I wanted was a simple handful of words on top.

She told me “We don’t decorate that cake. You can’t do that. Why would you even want to?”

At this point, my cousin had walked off to talk to some friends, so I was alone, and frustrated with dealing with someone who just didn’t seem to get it.

“I just want someone to put ‘Happy Birthday to Me’ on top of the damn cake, is that so hard? I always spend my birthday alone, my kids don’t come home, my parents leave the state, my friends don’t remember, or don’t live close enough to be here…I just wanted something nice for myself. Forget it!”

At this point, I walked out, with cousin L scrambling to catch up to me.

She asked what was wrong, but I wouldn’t tell her.

Later, I get a phone call from the bookstore. Could I please come down & pick up my order?

I told the lady on the phone I didn’t have an order, but she was adamant, & that I needed to pick it up.

So, I went.

When I get there, the cake is done, exactly as I ordered, and when I go to pay for it, she won’t let me, saying someone else already took care of it, although she won’t tell me who.

I take my cake & go home, wishing I had someone to celebrate with.

That’s my wish every year.

Does making wishes on candles in dreams count?

To Dream or Not…

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…

The Ghost Dragon

I dreamt of the dragon last night.

Him who was, from the time long past.

Of what might have been, and what could have happened

I know now that it was nothing more than a fevered wish

There was never any truth to the dragon’s words

For they all washed away in the tide

Scattered on the sands of his island, secluded and safe

But there we walked, talked & laughed once.

In this wistful dreaming

He smiled at me and bid me stay

And then I knew it was no more than fancy

No more than fiction

Drafted from a simple haunting, and nothing more

Dragons don’t love.

They only dream of lightning.

But you cannot catch lightning if you won’t risk getting wet in the rain.

The morning light banished the dragon’s ghost

And I was left with the faint crackle of lightning in my fingertips as he fled.