thoughts at midnight

I had a dream the other night.

You, standing alone on the platform where we nearly said goodbye, the streetlights dancing all around us, an orange glow warming the cold winter air. 

I could hear nothing but the sound of my own sobbing, my endless nonsensical bargaining, and the learned helplessness sinking in as I realise that this is really, our last goodbye.

You were not what I wanted. Not really. 

But my love for you was stubborn and I couldn't seem to let you go.

The one thing I know is that I would have done, and I would do anything for you. 

Perhaps the distance destroyed us, but I know one thing for sure is that my love for you was the only thing that held us together for so long. 

And it takes two kinds of love. 

No matter how great one's heart may be. 

In my dream I refused to accept this truth. 

The train bell sounds and I know. It's now or never. 

I jump onto the platform, giving everything away just so I can be with you. 

Some people yearn for success, fame, an accomplished career. 

But all I've ever wanted is to love someone with all my heart, to truly say "I love you" and mean every, single, word.  

You don't help me up the platform. 

You stand there and you watch the horizon. 

Indifferent to the burning platform, indifferent to my efforts to try and love you. 

As I try to embrace you, you push me and walk away. 

My skin burns from the heat of the flames, mocking my stupidity for believing that you actually care.

But still, I run after you, begging for you to turn around and look at me. 

Look at what you're doing to me.

Then, as you drift further and further away, happy to escape our delusional fairy tale, it dawns on me.

You're fine in the fire. 

::::::::

The scary thing about dreams is that though 99% of the time they mean anything, there is a small likelihood that it reflects the future.

And truth be told. 

I had this dream long before I fought for you a second time.

And when I saw you for the last time, cycling up to meet me in the sticky night air, this dream flashed before my eyes like a warning sign.

But love blinded me, and I ignored it. 

I hoped my love for you would forever bind us together. 

I'm still in love with you, but that's okay. I'm not ashamed of how much I loved and love you. 

I know that one day, I'll pull myself out of the fire.

I'll get back on that train, and in due time, I will stop being sorry that this one-sided relationship ended.

And I'll sing these words with profound meaning:

I'm not sorry that I met you.

I'm not sorry that it's over.

I'm not sorry that there's nothing to save.

Just not tonight. 

Disclaimer: 

I'll eventually stop Dear Diary-ing the shit out of this blog.

Eventually.

April