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You…

Last night, I dreamt of you. Your beautiful face, so happy and carefree, the way it used to be, the way it was supposed to be. But did it? I don’t remember what happened in the dream, only your face and the way you kept your hair down covering the forehead, just the way I liked. That was all I remember. You know, I could describe more, like the details on your face or what you were wearing, I could write them all. But I don’t have any adjectives, and not in a good way. The bad memories, the nightmares, the stress, the struggle, the pain, the harassment, the depression, all of these clouds any good views I could have of you. I remember how I lost, not just a part, but the whole of me. I lost my will to live. Everyday I would tell myself that there is a way out of this toxic relationship, that I just need to be patient. I really don’t know how I managed to survive but how you made me lose interest in life, in myself, how you made me drown in guilt when it was you who did wrong, how you took away my freedom, the one thing I live for, I can never forget. It was easy for you to destroy me so vehemently that I would never be able to come back to who I used to be. So, not being able to remember the dream and just seeing your smiling face with those cunning and malicious eyes is making me restless. You still manage to have that affect on me, only the exact opposite way you used to have before. I just don’t understand which was better. I vowed myself not to think about it, to forget it like we do with that single annoying fly in the room. We forget it as soon as its out. And here I am, wasting my ink on you, when I know you aren’t worth even a single thought.

©passionbookworm

Published by somewhere_isolated

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