10:38 post meridiem.
The house is dark with the exception of two glass candles and the ever remaining stove light.
Today, many many things went very wrong, but I can’t seem to shake the two dreams I had this early morning and 45 minute afternoon.
Why do dreams of him enter my psyche when I hate him and he treated me beyond unkind.
I don’t understand many things anymore in my current existence
But, these two separate sleeping pictures were so intense, real *(as they always have been).
Most are vicious, angry like real life follows me to my silent place and I cannot even turn that off.
Our last real-life conversation was the worst between us.
The way he spoke to me, the words he chose to hurt me, belittle me so he could feel better about himself when indeed if he looked in the mirror it must be so easy for him to have no soul because if he did he would have never spoke to me in a manner of wretchness in times of and my life that are drowning without cause of something I did.
I just wish the dreams would end.
He was never who he pretended to be when we met.
So many words and feelings wasted.