I hate dreaming. I dream of the impossible, only to be woken up with disappointment. I dream the words that I don't bother speaking. I keep my mind to myself and it eats me alive everytime.
The odd thing is, for a split second when I wake up, I still wish I was asleep. Even though I know my dreams are not real, the knowing that you're not being faced with reality is kind of enjoyable.
Reality can be so cruel. Some days you'll be faced with challeges. Some harder than others. Some days you'll be faced with people who have been taken over by hate. The kind that will tear you down just for the hell of it. Some days you'll be faced with friends who change into enemies. Whether it's their fault or your fault. It will happen sooner or later.
Dreams allow you to escape and live in a different world. They allow you peace, love, warmth and reassurance. But they can also take you to the deepest, darkest parts of your life that you never want to go.
I hate dreams because they are the only things that I cannot escape. It's like a shadow on a sunny day. They can replay harsh memories that you haven't imagined in years. My dreams are the only things that truly know me. And that's terrifying.
