Crying. Screaming. The sound of her voice awaken her.
It was two in the morning and she’s having these nightmares again. Half awake, half-asleep she tried to separate the real from the dream.
Still sobbing, she refused to open her eyes as thoughts of him haunted her yet again.
She missed him beside her. She missed waking up cradled in his arms ; missed the way he patiently and lovingly calms her after every bad dream; how he whispers and assures her that it was just another imagination. She missed how he says nothing can harm her as long as he is with her. That idea comforts her as she falls back to sleep.
She cried for all the memories – for it was all that was left.
Finally getting the courage to open her eyes, she searched for him. But he’s already gone; nowhere to be found. For the first time in months, her heart ached and bled again. And oh how she felt the pain!
Not letting herself be consumed by the moment, she uttered a question in the silence of that dark room. “Is he for real?”
“Is he for real?”, she expected an answer. “Or was it only just a dream?” Tears fell down her cheeks.
She stood still for hours;staring at the blackness of the winter skies.
The cold, shivering wind blowing from her window stirred her up from a lonely melancholy. Dragging herself back to bed, she grasped her blanket – covered herself like the cloth can protect her from the coldness she was feeling. She closed her eyes and went back to sleep – with high hopes that the sun is going to shine for her when she wakes up.. and maybe then, she’d finally see the light and feel the warmth she’s been longing for so long.
“When you’re dreaming with a broken heart, the waking up is the hardest part.“