When I was about 9 or 10 years old, I snuck behind the couch and peer at the side....allowing myself to view The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Short version of this story???? I wasn't allowed to watch it but I did anyways. I didn't mind the decapitation or the gut slashing. The Hessian Soldier (a.k.a. The Headless Horseman) terrified me as he put back on his head at the end and his face was reconstructed. His face was so terrifying, I had night terrors for months...even years.
I had a nightmare not too long ago that had the same feeling the one about the Hessian gave me. Both past and present were twisted into a mess of terror. This is what the dream consisted of.
Brenden had come to my house with another girl. Mystery girl. They were cuddling and tickling each other in my bed with a translucent sheet where I could see everything. Later they went out to eat and came back to my house. Finally, I asked the girl why she was at my house. "For romance?" she answered. I turned to Brenden and asked him why she said that and it came to my understanding then that this was his form of a breakup.
Sound familiar? Heart-wrenching, blood freezing, head throbbing pain. It was as if the past was being relived for me except I was actually present like a ghost.
With Cody, I wasn't there when he brought over the girl...but I wasn't stupid. He claimed she was never over there and that she knew about me. Why hide every detail of me living there??? My make-up....my jacket....my flip flops? Why would you try to convince someone that you loved them so much and did everything for them if you turn around and do the one thing that shows the complete opposite. I'm not dwelling on the past. I guess I just want an answer that will never be revealed to me.
I'm relieved for his mistake. I am glad for his stupidity. I'm no longer the trophy girlfriend. The one he showed off to his friends. I'm no long the object of a cruel game where in public, everything was perfect. Everyone was convinced that we were so in love. That couldn't be further from the truth.
I'll write again when I feel more composed.
No comments:
Post a Comment