Weeping

Dream Journal 12-05-16

The rays of golden sunlight pierced the cold tranquillity of that night. The bulky cream curtains blew open from the slight morning breeze. Her breathing was slow and heavy, but she was still breathing. And right now, that was all I needed.

The world outside her hospital was beginning to rise, the faint hum of the waves, the chirp of birds and, far off in the distance, two dogs barked at each other, eager to fetch the morning paper. The person whom I had been watching over all night was someone that I had dreamt of many times before, but this was my first sad dream with them. She lay motionless in the bed before me, my cheeks were stained with salt from my tears throughout the night. I was still clutching onto her hand, refusing to accept that she may not be able to experience all the joys of the world like she desired to do. Still, even though she was the one who dreamt in silence on her would-be deathbed, she still managed to comfort me and give me the strength I need.

I cursed the outside world for feeling so bright about the day when my world was fading away right in front of me. Burying my face into those silky gold-tinted curls, I wept until I could weep no more. I wept right up until my heart gave out, not so long after hers.

 

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