Imagination

"But don't you ever wonder... I mean, let it affect you emotionally?"

No, no I don't. I still dream, and I do still wallow. All night I tossed to anxious-tinted realities. I cried in my sleep. No one was there to rip me off of it. Graduation date is looming. In my nightmare, I sat staring at the stage as my classmates walked across it. I heaved in sadness, and when I turned to my right, he was there. He was plotting, planning to get far, far away, like he always wanted. Run away to Oregon to become a musician, useless bachelor's degree in hand. And in my despair, the thought dawned on me:

I am stuck
right
here.

By virtue of the sunlight streaming in my window, and my preconceived usage of the alarm clock, I woke up from this nightmare. I think it's going to haunt me for a good, long time. It's enough that I have to handle my stasis day by day. There's nothing more thrilling than the thought of my escape from this subdued mode of living. To cut all attachments, to be freed from guilt and obligation. To finally live.

How fucked up is it to allow a dream to ruin my day. I am stunted emotionally. I can't seem to climb out of bed, but I can certainly write my frustrations out. Not that it would help. Just mapping out visually a scramble to my thoughts yet again.

Now that I've lost Chloe, I'm more alone than I've ever been. As much as I love being in a relationship where one takes care of the other, my inability to take care of myself got in the way. Now I'm occasionally visited by Tiger Lily Feather, whose good sense and sassy nature allow her to sleep with me and to hold her in my times of need. She seems to understand, girl to girl, that I'm as broken as they come, and sometimes, I can't keep the glue on enough to survive a day outside my bed. And I'm breaking in other fragments; I'm afraid that I'm becoming almost irreparable. She also misses Chloe almost as much as I do. (But as she is a cat, she doesn't let that affect her much.)

What am I doing?