...

I don't dream, or atleast I don't dream often. Let me tell you about my dreams and the void.

The void can sometimes feel like time travel, from one point to the next in an instant but with time you come to understand the moments in there, fleeting as they may be it brings a strange sort of clarity that sadly washes away quickly after waking. The jump can be jarring but if you take it slow you'll see as I do.

When I will myself away from whatever distraction I have that night and lay in bed I just fade into the void, the boundary between sleeping and waking up isn't clear but it's not instant. The haze of non existence wraps around me like a blanket. It quiets my thoughts and aleast lets me have some sort of rest.

Now dreaming is a whole different story, I dream only after I've woken once, be it in the middle of the night or the mornings where I have nothing better to do. I can't just slip back into the void, instead my mind gets free roam in how to replay my trauma. I guess my reluctance to sleep stems from this, there are entire painted worlds inside your dreams, only for them to be ripped away when the day comes. The kind ones are the worst for that, with the bad dreams you're atleast somewhat happy to escape them, the happy ones are tragic due to non existence, real life breaking the illusion your mind crafted to comfort you.

Let me tell you the reason I don't dream, why I avoid that path, I'm scared of seeing Her. I see all the potential dreams and those ones terrify me, I just can't face it, all the things we didn't get to do, all the days that should've been full of laughter and love. I know I'm only delaying the inevitable but even just the thought of that smile being taken from me again is unbearable. I know whatever phantom my brain conjures will pale in comparison, I hold onto the memories of our time together I promise you that.

I'm sat here now avoiding sleep, I often wonder if she'd like my writing. Though I find comfort in the void it's not a pleasant feeling to be ripped out of every morning, the waking is the part I dread.

Unreality can be so much better, she was one of the first to support my art back before I shared this much of myself with the world. you don't need to sleep for this either, just paint the pretty pictures in your mind. You can weave a new reality for yourself, bounds and limits exist still to this as the real will still seep in and require you occasionally but pay that no mind for now, just think of the trees, of the rain and of comfort.

Clocking out of the banal makes it neccesary to look at the world from a new axis, a new perspective can make all the difference

So tell me, Weaver of the Unreal, What will you make today?

I regret not showing her more and I wish I could share all of what I make now.

I love you.