I stop. I'm listening.

. I close my eyes.

The rain is pouring now. Its almost nightfall.

Darkness comes with dark emotion. I don’t like these feelings. I only hope that this spring shower will wash away this sadness, but its not. I cant stop this dream from overwhelming me, but its too late…

* * * *

I’m walking again. The rain has consumed me. But I cant fight it off when every drop that has absorbed into me is only fueling my undying tears.

So this is it. It has finally come to this. Its over. I had no other choice. Sooner or later it wouldn’t have mattered. My heart aches for leaving and walking away. Yet part of me is relieved that it has been done.

Though more than anything else, what tears me inside out…was that he didn’t even care. I doubt he even watched me go out the door. Honestly, I don’t remember exactly what it was that made me walk down this empty, dark, wet road. But I guess it doesn’t really matter anymore

I know its not going to end here, no….its not going to end here at all…

I often wonder what happened to us. At what point in time did one or the other do something to make the other not want to care anymore. Was it the countless differences of opinions and interest, things in common? This fights because of those differences, the feelings I had lost each time we fought. Maybe its just the fact that one or both never truly loved one another at all. In reality I don’t want answers. I have nothing left now, to care about anything.

The rain has finally ceased, and the sky has cleared again. I stop and gaze at the stars in the night sky. It only makes me more depressed that I cant be that far away from this place right now.

*****

I have walked all night, and its now early morning. There is so much fog now, its hard to see very far away. Not far off the road I see an old house, and old very run down house. Unrealistically, it was familiar to me. I thought of it as the old place where an aunt had once lived. Seeing as I had nowhere else to go I might as well.

I found the house was about as hollow as I felt inside. No furniture, or anything. I came to what looked like a living room. Clearly I could see the outlines of where a couch and a loveseat had once been. An imagine flashed in my mind. The couch and the love seat we bought together. Times of lying together talking, or watching a show. To me that was one of my favorite times together. The image faded. I collapsed and burst into tears again. I slid to the floor with my knees drawn up next to me. I just want to be dry and warm again. It is so cold. I am so very tired right now, and im afraid to sleep…afraid of dreams I might have, but I just don’t have the energy to stay awake any longer. I have failed at most things in my life, and now I have failed multiple times all over again.

****

I have fixed up this dirty old house this afternoon. It looks somewhat livable now. I wash my hands as a glance out the kitchen window. The late afternoon rays shine through, and for a brief moment it felt wonderful. Just as when you might pull a shirt fresh out of the dryer in the winter, the warm wonderful feeling you get for that first few seconds of wearing it. And for that one moment, I forgot everything else.

The kitchen at looks a lot better now, better than the rest of the house, no dust or broken glass. The living room however I have closed off. I don’t want to see anything that would remind me of any memories. Unfortunately, I would have other things as well….

I entered the bedroom where I left what few things I brought with me the night before. Something is not right. There’s a pillow here. Its not mine. How did it get there? I didn’t remember having this on me. A sick feeling started to grow in my stomach, because I know that its his. My first thought was to tear it apart. But rather than let myself get upset over another episode, I left the room.

****

every day is just like the rest. It has not meaning. I don’t even know what day it is anymore. Guess it doesn’t really matter anyhow. I spend a lot of time just gazing out the kitchen window, why I don’t know, there’s not thing out there to really look at.

A twig snaps, a heartbeat skips. What was that. I look in the direction of the sounds, nothing. A funny feeling grows in my stomach, a second later my blood pressure rises in my throat. What's out there? A cat or dog maybe?

Deciding to just ignore it, I start to clean the kitchen up for the day. A few minutes later I turn around to find him standing in the doorway. Silently I curse myself for leaving it open. How could he have known? Thinking back I only remember telling him my aunt has left the house years ago, though I never told him where it was. I never thought I would have to worry about this, and now I am afraid to move an inch.

I have little emotion to show for him now. Though very little of me is somewhat happy to see him again. In some way or another I had hoped he might try to find me. I don't think he would, considering he never even said goodbye.

I refuse to make eye contact so I turn from him. My instincts tell me to run away but what good will that do. Closing my eyes I ask him what he wants. Oddly I don't recall much of what was said, only that It was very harsh. The last thing I remember was watching him snatch his pillow I had left by the front door, hatefully he stared at me, turned around and stormed out of the house and out of site, not looking back.

As I watched him leave, a very hollow empty feeling came over me. Only this time I didn’t bleed from the inside out.

****

Who can say why people do the things the way they do, because of the way they feel. Or is it just fate? I don't like to think that everything is carved in stone, even when a single person feels as cold as stone from the heart. I have always believed that life is a mold in your own hands. You can make it whatever you desire

Some also say that happiness lies in your own hand. I don't think so. Who can say what changes time will bring. It Is impossible to live and be completely fulfilled, and think there is nothing missing in your life.



Id like to think I know why I had this dream, but I don't. I cannot come to any solution as to what would cause me to have a nightmare like this. What bothers me more than anything else about it is that it ended in the middle of the story, which means that I will probably have it again sometime. This particular dream is one…that I don't want to see the ending of