Nightmares

"You look tired, you should sleep more"

Yeah, well, it's not really as if I had a choice, right?
Sleeping. I like sleeping.
Warm blanket, soft pillow, stars above my head.

It's the mightmares that I don't like.
They're made with remains of the past, insecurities and harsh memories.
They leave me tired and sad on the morning.
There is always this bittersweet taste, the regret, of an era gone forever.
There is the shame and the debilitating terror of tragedies that even time can't erase.
There is the constant humming of all the small things we add up everyday.

That's probably what is the hardest: good and bad things all mixed up together until you can't really say if you really want it to stop.

They say I have to let go of the past.
I did. I turned and walked away. I worked hard not to dwell on old memories.
But how am I supposed to feel when they come every night, taunting me, haunting me?
I keep on going. Straight back and proud face.
I won't let the past crush me.

And still every night, I see the same faces, hear the same words, relive the same scenes.
And on the morning, I feel exhausted and vaguely lost.