(no subject)
every night, terrible nightmares playing off things I want that just can't be.
every night, waking up every half hour and looking at the clock, wishing it was morning.
every night, drenched in sweat.
Now Donald comes into play, and I try to deny it, even in my dream.
I asked Alex, who never even knew Donald in real life
"Am I being crazy, or is that Donald, alive?"
"No, that's him. He was never dead."
it's not fair because it's something I always believed, in a crazy way.
it's why I never mourned too much, never went to the memorial, and never talk about him as if he was dead.
his number is still in my phone, and his screenname still on my friends list.
I keep waiting for him to show back up, because it's something he would do.
why all this now?
I am having a hard enough time dealing with the living, and those living in my life.
every night, waking up every half hour and looking at the clock, wishing it was morning.
every night, drenched in sweat.
Now Donald comes into play, and I try to deny it, even in my dream.
I asked Alex, who never even knew Donald in real life
"Am I being crazy, or is that Donald, alive?"
"No, that's him. He was never dead."
it's not fair because it's something I always believed, in a crazy way.
it's why I never mourned too much, never went to the memorial, and never talk about him as if he was dead.
his number is still in my phone, and his screenname still on my friends list.
I keep waiting for him to show back up, because it's something he would do.
why all this now?
I am having a hard enough time dealing with the living, and those living in my life.