Dreams and the Stuff they're made off

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Dreams. The word has such positive connotations- such an upbeat, motivating and hopeful ring. You dream, you do, you get. That is the general sequence of things I am told.

It's sad that I haven't actually had those kind of dreams. Literal dreams.

I suppose it's always a good thing to get quite suddenly jolted back into reality only to realise that it was 'only a dream' and then sigh a huge sigh of relief. 'Oh! It was just a dream- thank Goodness!' Yeah. Those are the dreams I dream. Not frequently. Any other dreams I have are just that. Lost into the ether as the first rays of light stream into my awakening eyes. They just leave me with, well nothing, as they should.

But not the former kind- oh no! In their wake, they leave a pit in my stomach. One that is filled with strange and not very pleasant feelings- feelings that resurrect what memories I have, with great labour, locked away in a little box, buried deep into a corner of my heart. If that Pandora's Box opens even a tiny bit, the black smoke rife with gloom and display makes right for my sanity- something I cannot afford to lose. But these accursed dreams!

I don't want to have them, and yet they come. I don't want all the grief I have overcome to flood the gates again. I don't want to feel like that. The worst pain is the pain of loss. One doesn't get over it. One just learns to live with it. Living well eventually does happen, but that pit- it makes itself known sometimes. Then you have to rally all the strength of a thousand warriors- the ones that sprang into action back when it all happened. I'd like to retire those warriors. Send them off in peace and be extremely happy to see their backs- never to return. But these accursed recurrent dreams.They force me to keep said warriors on a handsome retainer. They silently guard that Pandora's Box and then when all havoc is unleashed from these dreams I will sometimes have, they spring into action. They lose sometimes. Imagine. 1000 warriors with strength, agility and weapons- they lose- sometimes- but not every time. But in all fairness,I have to say this for them- they win at the end. They always win at the end.

I do not want to have these dreams. They don't seem- on the face of it- good. But maybe they are. Maybe they serve to remind me what I am- where I came from- what I overcame- and most importantly- what is yet to come. What is yet to come will be good. It will be epic. And then, I truly will retire my warriors. 

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