Dreams come true

I haven't been sleeping well lately; I have trouble going to bed, and also, for obvious reasons, getting out of it. This has been happening all my life, don't worry. But today I didn't feel like going to the gym, so I laid on top of my bed, with a book in my hand instead. I hadn't opened it yet, and I was already asleep.

I heard a sound, or felt a vibration... can't remember which, but I sat on the edge of my bed and saw this message on my Twitter account, coming from Nemesis:



I had received it also as a text message. That made me smile, and exhale. It made me feel like everything was fine. Better than fine. We might be having a bad day, but it's all good now, we understand, we...

And then I opened my eyes to a blurry spine, to the side of my bed, to reality. I never received that message. We're still in the middle of this stupid drama; a mix between hormones, fear, and a lack of understanding. I checked, half asleep, her latest tweets: something about her parking space, one about punching walls or balls, and one calling me "nakakainis", "tanga".

Great.

I don't know if this whole thing is sinking in for her now or if she's having a bad day, or what. What I do know is that I am about to leave everything behind for a person that, at least sometimes, considers me an annoying idiot. I calm down, and I understand that she's not having a good day, and I... well, repress my wanting to talk about whatever the hell it is that's making her act that way. I give her space, and I wait. Maybe not without feeling guilty, without feeling like all those things she's thinking I am at this very moment.

Did we feel more for each other when the whole decision, the drama, was hanging over our heads? Is this how we know that the "honeymoon period" is over? She's been saying that these are going to be the longest 2 months ever. Maybe that's true for her, but it's not for me. I miss her, and I'd love to be with her this very moment, but waiting for something to arrive isn't half as bad if you know it IS going to arrive. Or maybe she doesn't know. Maybe she's having second thoughts. Maybe that's her way of torturing herself, I don't know. If that's what's going on, I guess she should know that I am joining in on her own personal home-made torture. That's the funny thing about couples: If one's pissed, the other has no other choice but to feel guilty, hurt, pissed back, or a combination of all three.

For now, I'll just have to try and go back to sleep, and hope that reality feels a bit more like that dream this time.