Chapter 1 : Nevertheless

By glucka · May 14, 2014 ·
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  1. Chapter 1
    Nevertheless


    And still, I don‘t know if I‘m awaken. Everything seems real, but by that moment when I‘m starting to be assure of my reality, I just wake up again. It seems wicked, and I don‘t think you understand what I‘m talking about. I could call it my dream journal, you know that one when you dream something really pleasant, then you wake up and you just need to remember, so you write it down. To make it clear, I don‘t want to remember. In fact, I really wished I never had all of this. You can take this as contrived stories, and I‘ll be glad if you do, if you think that I‘m that imaginative to make this up.

    All of my strongest emotions are rooted deeply in my subconciouness. That‘s why I never seem sad, or angry, or anything negative. They‘re showing up at nights, when I‘m sleeping. Once I‘ve realised that, I‘ve stopped sleeping at nights. Of course, I love night, I think that there‘s no better time when people are truly themselves except the night. But the way my emotions are showing.. It just makes me more and more mad. I‘ve looked for a term for this, and the closest I‘ve found was parasomnia.
    ___________________________________________________

    Sending „Please, come, I need you. Just for this time, really.“, and thinking if this doesn‘t sound too depressive. I know that you‘re having good time with your new girlfriend, and I never would even think about interrupting it, after all these nights spent talking with you cause I knew if you were left alone you would totally break. I think you‘re owing me, and not something material, but just the same thing – to be near when I‘m feeling like breaking. No answer. OK, I will just get up, get some water and get back to sleep, maybe there‘s nothing so much to worry about. Just need to put some clothes on, I‘m not living alone in my apartment to walk half naked around. And by that time I‘m putting some old oversized t-shirt on, I‘m laying in my bed again. „Well, that‘s strange“ I‘ve thought. Checking my phone – no, I haven‘t sent that message. While I was finishing my beer, phone started ringing:
    - Yes?
    - Hey, Helena, what are you doing? Maybe wanna come over? We‘re having a little party here, and I thought it would be better if you weren‘t alone.
    - Um, but it‘s midnight, I could hardly make it to the last bus.

    - Just try, I know you‘re suffering from that breakup, it won‘t be better if you just lay in your bed day after day.

    So you‘ve remembered me. Maybe that‘s a great idea, to be around people, I guess. Painting my face with some make-up, putting the last clean clothes left. Locking the door, going out – and suddenly I‘m in my bed again.
    __________________________________________

    I don‘t want to expatiate, so I will end this just right here – it repeated many times that night. I was going out, I was smoking my last cigarette, I‘ve even heard when my cat broke some dishes in the kitchen. And after all of this, I was just waking up in my bed, again and again. I thought I was going mad and that scared the shit out of me.

    So, now you know what happens at night, when I‘m suffering in inside. I could call this incubus, but after incubus you wake up scared and after some time you realise it was just a bad dream. The worst thing about my bad dreams is that I don‘t know, if I‘m awaken or not, if it‘s really happening or I‘m just dreaming.

    But sometimes I like telling people these stories. I like the way they seem confused to believe them or not. How do you feel? I have lots of them. It‘s my night stories. Goodnight.
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