I had a dream that I lived in Japan. It’s hard to remember, but I think I was really scared. There were a ton of people around me, which helped, but I remember being scared of them too. I had no reason to be; they were only ever kind towards me. They were impeccibly reiable, available, open, even when I (couldn’t, wouldn’t, refused to) reciprocate. At times I would confide in them and immediately regret it out of habit. I had no reason to; they were only ever accepting of me. Maybe I had some silly notion that it was all temporary.
When I woke up, everything was back to normal. The dream was so overwhelming that I refused to let myself think about it. Turns out these sorts of things are really hard to forget.
It’s been close to 2 months now. That dream, the people within it, the memories they forged, and the emotions they evoke, all weigh heavy on my mind. Yet, I have refused to look any of it in the eye. I am still burrowing. Regardless of where or when, there’s no escaping that who I am is a coward.
But I miss the people in my dream. I get reminded of them all the time. I want to see them again, even if only for a little. It may be hard; I imagine seeing their faces would remind me of all the baggage I’ve been shoving down, but that’s not their fault. Hopefully, they’d be happy to see me again too.
Right before waking up, I remember all of us going out to karaoke one last time. I think if it were real, that would have been one of the best nights of my life.
What a crazy, unforgettable dream.
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