I had the strangest dream last night. It scared me and hurt me more than most anything that has occurred in my life.
Through my work, I had become crippled. My back was broken and I could no longer walk. I was in need of a wheelchair, yet I never had one, I simply dragged my limp limbs behind me. In this dream's reality, my grandmother had passed away years ago and my father had taken care of her house. He had also passed on, and I was left the house in the will. This was a home I had grown up in and had many fond memories of, yet it felt like a tomb. My grandmother's three parrots still lived there, as did two kittens, one which was black and a calico who had also lost the use of his hind legs. Something had happened between Kim and I, we were no longer speaking, hence my moving to the house in Illinois.
I was sitting, propped up against a tree in the front yard I had climbed hundreds of times, yet I would never ascend again. I was looking at a gray cloudy sky, and my heart was breaking, so many things had gone wrong. I had lost my family, my love, and my legs.
Next, I was sitting in the driveway with Ryan and Josh, lamenting the way my life had fallen into shambles. It was a bright and sunny day as I told them of love lost and the despair of life. I told them of my undying love for someone who had left long ago, and a possible search to reignite that passion. They said it was madness, that I should resign myself to winning Kim back. I screamed that it was pointless, that part of my life was over. I had to focus on the here and now. I had no idea how I was going to take care of this giant house when I couldn't even take care of myself.
Just then, as if an answer from God above, an angel came walking down the sidewalk, the sun lighting up her beauty and radiating it for all to see. It was Her, the one who had stolen my heart so long ago and refused to give it up, even now. Ryan and Josh were gone now as she walked up and knelt beside me. I was overjoyed just to see her face again, and then her silken words lifted my battered spirits even higher. She apologized for having left me all those years ago and told me that she was here to stay. She was going to take care of me and we would pick up that life lost those many years ago. Life had turned around. We had turned that tomb like house into a home. The garden was in full bloom and our home was full of light and life. She would spend much of her time with the animals, as they were her passion, and I would sit by that tree in the front yard, gazing at the sky and writing the many stories of my heart. It was truly a dream come true, until the dream took on a darker hue and my beloved started to turn on me.
She began by belittling me, calling me nothing but a worthless cripple, a waste of talentless life. I still had no wheelchair, I could only drag myself about. I would reach for her, but she would not touch me. It was then that I realized she had never touched me, not even a loving hand on my face. No warm embraces, no hands held on colorful spring days, nothing. I called her out on this harsh facade, and she admitted it in full. She had never loved me, never would, I was merely a means to her end. She had stolen everything from me, selling it off for money to line her own pockets. I was nothing but a whimpering child to her, always crying and mourning my life lost. Instantly the home we had built was is disarray. Everything was warped and empty. She had taken everything and I was screaming at her to get out. She only laughed at me, a cruel smile played on her lips. My heart was torn as she left and I crawled after her, a pitiful show of my unending love for her, despite the abuse she put me through. She then took my car and sped away, out of my life yet again.
I sat in that tomb for what seemed like years, I was older, yet no wiser. I heard noise upstairs and realized that since my accident, I had not been up there. I opened the door and began dragging myself up the long flight of stairs. Once I reached the top, I saw the black kitten again, he was looking towards the door of the bedroom I had when I was a child. The noise was like a loud banging, as though someone were hammering planks of wood together. The bedroom door began to open slowly and then...
...I woke up, but kept my eyes shut. I was terrified that I was still in the dream, with nothing left in my life. Yet, there was a sliver of hope that I would see her face again. It was a long time before I had the courage to open my eyes. Relief flooded through me that I was still here, still in my home with a family that loves me. Yet, there was still that shadow of grief for a life lost so long ago.
It seems that everyone is in a downward spiral of emotion and spirit. I can't listen to the radio anymore, everything is too depressing and I can't understand half of it anyways. Why can't we find that peace so desperately needed? When did we slide into this mode of mourning ourselves and sulking life away? Maybe the Mayans were right, maybe the world will end in 2012, that should end all this pointless nonsense. Depression can serve a pupose, it can bring out the best in us, showing our true selves. It can inspire great works of art. It can make your realize the value of life. We're children whom wish for the dark but are undeserving of the gifts it can bring. We've lost sight of the light which grants that serenity so desperately need. There's too many broken and empty hearts out there, in need of love and guidance. It's time we made something of our lives. It's time to leave a legacy for our future to remember us by. This is a rallying cry that should unite. Stand for something, stand for yourself, stand for a future that only you can shape.