Repost (Missing)
August 6, 2010

September 22, 2008

Droplets of water trickled out of the faucet falling ominously onto the porcelain cracked tub. It sounded like the click clacking of your toenails on tiled floor as you meandered about the house in your early morning saunter, anxious for a new day. Deliberate but passive, just like me. Lazy stretch and sausage yawns. For a minute it felt like you were still here. A dream.

For reasons I can't explain the house still carries your smell, stronger than before. The rooms embody the essence of you. It holds on, lingering intently.

A mouse in the rafters rustling creaky wood boards, scurrying above. Rain that falls like a funeral dirge, wind that blows early autumn leaves. Neighbor dogs barking. Dark shadows cast on the carpet where we said our goodbyes. New hardwood floors that smell like ice cream upon entering the house. A lone oak tree that stands taller than the rest. Acorns and pine cones burning blue embers in a romantic flame. Tanned skin and white cotton in a warm embrace. Sharp needled puppy teeth, babies breath and chubby skin rolls. A song on the radio, a plaque hanging on the wall that reads "The high point of my day is that moment when I get home to be with my dog." My mind playing tricks on me.

The wee hours of morning tossing and turning. Missing the snores that lulled me to sleep, a blonde pawed kick in the ribs with a sigh that let me know I ought not to be so restless. Twitching whiskers, nostrils flaring in and out with the rise and fall of pink belly fur, involuntary leg jerks and soft whimpers escaping into the night. It's quiet now, they've all stopped asking. Haunting images I won't reveal. It's ours, like this empty silence that taunts me.

If you were here you'd give me that look -- with ears laid back against the sides of your velvety head, the curl of your tail unwinding with concern. A puckered snout gray muzzle, with a silly snaggletoothed smirk over black lipped gums and all would be forgotten.

October 13, 2009

Do you ever have one of those nights when you just can't fall asleep? When you can't turn your mind off from the things you try to suppress during the business of the day?

I turned the TV off at 1:00AM and laid there tossing and turning in the sweltering August heat. My mouth got dry. I'd get up for a cold glass of water then lay back down praying sleep would find me and just as I got close I'd have to get up to use bathroom from all the water. Repeat. On and off all throughout the night.

I'd lay on my right side but my ear was pressed too hard into my pillow from the tension so it would get really sore and I'd have to flip over to the other side. This went on and on, back and forth, tossing and turning...all night long.

The fan kept blowing my hair onto my face, tickling my nose. I'd toss and turn some more... The dog kept inching closer to my side leaving me squished over to the edge of the bed in a tiny little corner as I'd toss and turn.

I look at the clock and can't believe this has gone on for 4 hours. It's 5:00AM and I haven't slept a wink.

About an hour later I finally drifted off only to have the most disturbing dreams. The kind of dreams that leave a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach, like how you would feel if you discovered that someone you cared about and believed in had betrayed your friendship and your trust.

Rattled, I'd awake with the daylight now creeping through the drapes and then finally I'd fall back to sleep only for the same disturbing dream to pick back up exactly where it left off. This went on 4 times. Awake. Nightmare. Sleep. Nightmare. Awake. Nightmare. Sleep. Nightmare.

Awake. Only to realize the horrible thing you just dreamed is actually not a dream at all, it's a reality and has been for some time. You just weren't awake enough to see it.

Posted by Lori in Dreams , Written in the past at 8:53 PM permalink Comments (1)
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