Have you ever had dreams so vivid you woke up feeling as if you just stepped out of the things that took place? Worse, dreams consumed with people you have such conflicted feelings for you can’t extricate yourself from dwelling on the millions of paths a conversation with that person could take? All day I have been trying to write about what I wanted to write about today but my mind is consumed, obsessed, bogged down in the mire that was the subject of this dream. Him. I can’t help myself from having conversations with him my mind; what we’d say if we saw each other today; where else the dream could have gone; conversations as if we were still the kids we once knew each other to be. All conversations that will never happen and yet, I can’t not dwell on the possibilities. Consumed. Friend believes he may be the mask my inner demons take. What demons are trying to rise to the surface that I need face them in my subconscious because I cannot in my waking life? I wonder. What’s worse is the insidious nature of such dreams. They are never clean cut and angry to bring closure to some past wrong. No. They are full of unexpressed sentiment, gentle and cloying, that makes me question motives and sincerity, his, but worse, my own.
Why won’t the mind let go? Why after so many years will these sentiments still not leave me in peace? Is this everyone? Or just the mind of someone once obsessed? Are there things left to be learned here? I have moved on, but the past still lingers, haunting. It can never be fully exorcised but maybe there are lessons learned there that are still relevant for now.
For as painful as some memories are, perhaps it is prudent not to simply bury them so deep and closeted away, but to delve into the insight that they could bring to more pressing problems?
So I sit here. Stuck. Mired in my memories. It is clear that I cannot simply walk away. The past can always find you. Where I go from here is the choice. Where, indeed.