Mornings with Her

“There’s an ancient saying in Japan, that life is like walking from one side of infinite darkness to another, on a bridge of dreams. They say that we’re all crossing the bridge of dreams together. That there’s nothing more than that. Just us, on the bridge of dreams.”M.T. Anderson

Some nights I can’t fall asleep. So I drive around, stare at people on the sidewalks. Closed shops. Beggars. Thieves. Whores. Nighthawks. The damned and beautiful. When I do fall asleep, I always dream about her. Each and every night. We talk. We just talk. I tell her everything I never had the chance to tell her. She listens. I ask her all the questions that I need answered in order to let her go, but then I wake up. She smiles and the dream drops dead, dissipating in the shivering morning.

I miss her. A lot more than I ever loved her. A lot more than I ever thought possible. I think about her every day, I dream about her every night. The moment I open my eyes in the morning, for a second it feels as if she’s lying there beside me. For a second. Then I know she’s not. She’s gone. Forever.

They say it takes some time. To get over. To forget. To move on with your live. To replace. To realize that life is just the same without her.

They’re wrong. Life will never be the same. It never is. Only those who never truly loved can replace. Can forget. The rest of us? We spend whatever is left of our lives aimlessly wandering between love and hate. Between blaming ourselves or them. Between wanting to forget them and wanting to find them again.

It’s a terrible thing to go through. It’s out of your control, out of your reach.

I met her when I was twenty three years old. Just a kid. Whatever it was I thought about love, well… she changed all that.

[…]

Some mornings I don’t want to wake up. I just want to stay in bed, talking to her in my dream. Telling her all that I need to tell her, all that I want to tell her. I know it’s just a dream, but couldn’t it last until I get to see her again? I know it’s not real, but what is?

It’s just me and her. On a bridge of dreams. The rest is darkness. Infinite and cruel.

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4 thoughts on “Mornings with Her

  1. hopedutton says:

    I love Charles Bukowski, one of the intellectually sexiest men I have ever read. Oh how I would have loved a day & a night with that smoking gun. Sorry to focus on his quote rather then your piece but you did pick him for a reason. ⚓️

    Liked by 1 person

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