I’m starting to blur my realities and my dreams, it was either because my dreams were so real, or maybe just because my fears were very very real. I couldn’t help wonder for the entire morning whether my imaginings actually happened. Did he really say that– do that? Did I really say what I dared not to in real life? My heart trembles at the thought of it being real.
I knew about it, I knew that he told me little lies to make me feel better, but they were lies. And in the dreams all these lies would unravel and I would see the truth, and it scared me: what did I see?
I saw demons and angels, wrapped in each others arms and burning each other with their destructive passion; I saw wolves chasing a deer, an innocent doe, into the dark woods and they all disappeared to never appear again. How is it that the hunter becomes the prey? How come the prayer leads the hunting and the preyed? I prayed, was preyed on and then I was swallowed whole by the darkness of the forest.
My panting breath as I woke and opened my crusty eyes told me I was dreaming, and the nightmare was over. But how come I could still smell the fear in my own perspiration? I know it’s a dream.
It must be.