Dreams

He comes to her door.
She says, "Oh, here are your clothes."
And he takes her hand softly as she turns to get the bag of clothes and says,
"I'm not here for the clothes."
"Then what do you want, ----?"
"You." He looks at her with eyes full of nothing but sincerity, something she takes as vulnerability.
No one should ever show her vulnerability.
"It's you I want. I made a mistake, Amy. She was nothing.. I-I was confused.. I-"
"So you want me back now? Is that what you're saying?"
"Yes. Yes, that's what I'm saying."
"Then you're an idiot.
"If you think you can come into my home after months of humiliating me with that hag,
and get me back, you never, ever, knew me."
"Amy, I-"
"Shut up! Do you know who I am?!
I am Amy ------! And you are ------- --------!
And I motherfucking hate you! You are terrible.
And I am so much better than you in every way.
Hell, I'm hotter than you, even!
Here are you clothes.
You will never touch me again, kiss me again, hold me again, or tell me you love me again.
I will never be yours again."

My heart was broken. But it's not.

You can't have me.
What you can have is a choke.



"I love you", he whispered in her ear as he kissed under her jawline.
And now she wishes she would have said, "What the fuck? Get out."
But she didn't. She said it back.
And she dreams versions of this all the time, wishing nothing had ever happened.
This was the demise about her belief of true love.
He could have said anything else.
But he didn't.
And even if he did love her, he doesn't anymore.
But what can she do? Nothing.
And she doesn't love him either.
It's the saddest thing she's ever know; love ending.
Now all that's left is that dead feeling people get after the person they love
leaves.
Leaves forever.
And she'll find the perfect person. She will.
Just not for a long, long time.
But she's scared he's going to try to say it again.
She is actually scared of something that she's sure won't happen,
two completely conflicting beliefs.
It won't happen, for sure, but she is so scared.
So terrified of what she might have to do if he were ever to try to get in again.
In her life. She doesn't want it.
She truely does not want him back.
She doesn't even tell of all the dreams she has, going back in time and being mean while she could.
But she can't.
She was good. And nice. And not herself.
She's a bitch. A cold-hearted. back-stabbing-if-she-could bitch.
She hates him, she really does.
But she likes stories. She definitely likes stories.
And when dramatic things happen, she tells.
Like, if he were to say it again.
She would make it perfect.
Make up for everything she didn't say before.
"That is so fucked up. Get the fuck out. Get the fuck out of my life.
And don't you ever think you can turn back.
There's no turning room, and I'm not about to make some.
You'll only screw me over. And no one. Screws me. Over.
Ever."
She should have said that.
But she didn't.


Version of a dream 09/11/09
Dreamed 08/11/09
It's so true.