2003-01-25 - 12:31 p.m.
'quick, wake me if i'm dreaming'
I dreamed of a beautiful red-headed boy. And shy hand-holding. And of coy, stolen kisses that blossomed into a stolen future filled with stolen happiness. And it was good. And safe. And wonderful.
I dreamed of my mother in a wedding dress and happy tears. The kind of tears that I haven't seen in far far too many years. I dreamed of her smell and being closed safely in her arms.
And then she was gone and I lived through her death again. And it felt far too real and like right now. Only this time I ripped up all the false words and called everyone on his shit. This time maybe I was as strong as everyone built me up to be when it really happened. I cried just as much, though.
I guess what it comes down to is that I miss her. More than I ever really let myself feel. So so much. And it comes seeping in to remind me. And I just want to feel safe again. I just want to feel real and real happiness. But, I think deep down in the depths of me, I know that's probably an impossible dream. How can I feel safe in a place that robbed me of her so young? How can I ever feel safe when I've seen far too much? I can't. But, I'm getting good at pretending. I'm getting better at lying. Though, it makes me hate far too much. But, somehow it seems like that's the only way I'll survive all this.
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