Tag Archives: dreams

Sea tears

10 May

I’ve been quiet this week because, well, I’ve been lying on the beach. I’ve got into a nice routine, starting with a 6 am run every morning.

But this morning was tricky. Because last night I dreamt about him.

I dreamt I was at a hotel in Ireland. And everyone was telling me that this is where we were supposed to get married. I’m not sure who these bearers of upsetting news were. I seemed to be on my own. I guess the hotel staff just wanted to rub salt into the wound.

Anyway, made myself get up and run in spite of waking up close to tears. I ran as far as I could on the beach, then kicked off my trainers and walked back through the water.

And it’s only then I realised I was crying. Salty, watery sea tears.

That dream is what it all boils down to. For all the times he told me he’d spent his whole life looking for me, I genuinely felt I’d spent my whole life looking for him. I loved him unconditionally. And, yes, I wanted to marry him and spend my life with him.

But it will never happen.

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Oh sh**

1 May

Felt pretty great about myself yesterday.

Cried a little, not a lot.

And I thought about him much less than usual.

But apparently my brain missed thinking about him. I dreamt about him. All night.

And woke at stupid o’clock feeling sick and sad and ugly. On a day of back-to-back client meetings.

Brain, I know you miss him. But Heart needs some peace.

Get out of my dreams

6 Dec

I went to bed last night (having not cried all day – yay me!), thinking that I might just be starting to feel a little better. I might just be getting closer to the light at the end of the tunnel. I might just be starting to make my peace with this heartbreak.

After all, B has been texting a lot (I worry too much). My counsellor is really helping me to make sense of everything. I don’t feel like such a Grinch about Christmas. And I’m so busy, I have a lot less time to just sit and cry.

And then I went to sleep.

And dreamt about him.

Here’s what went down: 

I was getting into a taxi somewhere in Florida, and ended up at a hotel in India (as you do). At the hotel, my ex had booked us a room that was, in fact, situated right in the middle of the lobby. He was there. And he wanted me to go and travel around the world with him. His Dad was on the phone asking if we were back together, then his Mum. He said he had read my blog and thought it was amazing. He had everything planned: I should quit my job, he would pay for everything, we’d travel and end up in Japan where we’d spend months exploring. (We were supposed to be going to Japan next year.) We’d get back to London and I could freelance while he went back to his job. Life would be just as we planned it. Just as I wanted it.

And I said, “Yes”.

Nightmares

29 Sep

I don’t have much to say tonight, except that I long for a restful night’s sleep.

I’ve managed to ditch my sleeping pill habit, and I’m getting through the night without hours and hours spent awake and horribly anxious. I still always wake between three and four, but I’ve got a knack for getting back to sleep through the power of a hypnosis app on my iPhone.

The only remaining problem is the nightmares.

Last week I had a horrific nightmare where I was watching Beyoncé ice skate across a pond that I knew wasn’t frozen. I didn’t stop her. She fell through. Other nights I find myself involved in gang warfare, and often dealing with weapons or complicated organised crime deals. It’s all very stressful for someone who panics about breaking the speed limit.

Anyway, last night I dreamt about my ex’s Mum. It wasn’t a nightmare as such. She was her usual lovely self. I woke at three in a panic about it because I felt so sad. Got the hypnosis app going. Fell back asleep. And dreamt about her again.

By morning I was emotionally exhausted. I really wanted to be part of his family. His Mum was ridiculously kind to me. As much as I need to move on from him, I need to move on from his parents and brother and nieces and nephew and his lovely friends. And they really need to stop visiting me in my sleep.

So, dearest brain, if I have the choice, I’ll take another nightmare about being inadvertently involved in Beyoncé’s death over a happy dream about any of his family members. Deal?