Goodnight & Bittersweet dreams.

I’m sick of dreaming about your smile. Sick of dreaming about the way you would hold my head in your chest. I’m sick of dreaming about the way I would wake up to you staring at me lovingly while I slept. I’m sick of dreaming about the taste of your kiss, the warmth of your embrace. Sick of dreaming about you calling me baby. Sick of dreaming about you making love to me. I’m so sick of dreaming about the way you would tease me, and beat me at almost every video game. I’m sick of dreaming about us making plans for our future together, sick of dreaming about laying on your stomach and looking up at you while you watched tv. I’m sick of dreaming about you dancing the night away with me. Sick of dreaming about spending time with your family, and you spending time with mine. I’m so damn sick of dreaming about the way you would open your door for me late at night when I would run to you while was crying because of personal problems, and you would make all my problems go away. I”m sick of dreaming about seeing your name on my phone when you’d call or text. Sick of dreaming about your soothing voice. I’m so fucking sick of dreaming about how much you loved me, and I loved you. Sick of dreaming about holding your hand in the car, sick of dreaming about going on late night food runs for you. I’m sick of dreaming about you coming home to me, and me coming home to you. I’m sick of dreaming about your room, your bed, your smell, your clothes. I’m damn sick and tired of dreaming about you.

And you know why? It’s not because I hate you. It’s not because I’m angry with you. It’s because just as time usually works its ways, it helped me to forget. No matter how deeply you loved someone at one point, as time goes by, you tend to forget what it all really felt like. But my dreams…they force me to remember. And because you’re not with me now, I hate it.

Just like that quote I once read, “It’s easy to get someone out of your head. Getting them out of your heart, that’s a different story.”

Damn my heart and its ability to love unconditionally…and God bless it at the same time. Thank you for the memories nonetheless. My foolish heart refuses to let them pass.