06-08-2020, 10:26 PM
when you're dreaming with a broken heart
She feels guilty, too, but it is hidden behind a face of almost marble. She feels guilty that she has forgotten how to smile, she feels guilty that she is not the wild and carefree girl he had known and at one point loved, and sometimes she wonders if maybe he had known this part of her existed and that was why he left. And she feels guilty for thinking that; feels guilty that there is still a bitterness that creeps at the back of her tongue when she thinks about him, because if someone couldn’t have loved her at her best, how was anyone ever going to love her now that she was at her worst.
She had thought she had gotten over it. Thought she had accepted it and moved on, because she had been given a second chance at life, in a land completely separate from here. She had found someone that loved even all the broken parts of her, she had let herself dare to heal and feel whole.
Now she wonders if that was all just a dream. Are dreams possible when you’re dead? She isn’t sure if it’s possible to wake up from a dream into a nightmare.
“I don’t think I feel alive yet,” she confesses to him, and this time the heaviness is weighed down by a palpable sadness, lacing around every word like a noose, building itself into a knot inside of her chest. “I was alive again, once, but this isn’t it.”
He asks her how she is, and she doesn’t answer at first. She angles her face away from him, staring off at some gold-lined hill in the distance, ignoring the way the breeze toys with the strands of her mane and the flowers that bloomed there. “I’m not okay, but I will be,” she says quietly, and it is an affirmation to herself as much as it is an answer to him.
She had thought she had gotten over it. Thought she had accepted it and moved on, because she had been given a second chance at life, in a land completely separate from here. She had found someone that loved even all the broken parts of her, she had let herself dare to heal and feel whole.
Now she wonders if that was all just a dream. Are dreams possible when you’re dead? She isn’t sure if it’s possible to wake up from a dream into a nightmare.
“I don’t think I feel alive yet,” she confesses to him, and this time the heaviness is weighed down by a palpable sadness, lacing around every word like a noose, building itself into a knot inside of her chest. “I was alive again, once, but this isn’t it.”
He asks her how she is, and she doesn’t answer at first. She angles her face away from him, staring off at some gold-lined hill in the distance, ignoring the way the breeze toys with the strands of her mane and the flowers that bloomed there. “I’m not okay, but I will be,” she says quietly, and it is an affirmation to herself as much as it is an answer to him.
the waking up is the hardest part
ANONYA
