dream a dream, write it down.

by epi

mid-day nap resulted in this dream.

Once upon a time, there was a girl. Her parents hid love within her name. Perhaps then, it wouldn’t be a stretch to blame them for her woes, for she grew up searching; and then drive to search gave her hope, and that she slept her nights empty handed took the hope away. In that way, she had everything and nothing. The days of everything were enough to pull her through the days of nothing. And she was happy. She searched for love by giving it. Over and over, she cast out a net woven with love, and over and over she pulled it up empty. Eventually, she forgot she was ever searching for anything. She began to cast her love out, not expecting anything in return. She would take pain and anger and hurt and ugliness from people, and give love back. It’s all she knew. If anyone ever offered love? She ignored it. She only knew how to cast it out; she’d forgotten how to pull love in. But it made her happy; it seems, there was always more love to give. And that made her happy. And that was her hope. That she would always have more love to give. Until, one day she didn’t. On that day, when she went to cast love over another person, to take their hurt; she found herself giving her own hurt away instead. She was confused, and she quickly turned to the next person. Reached out her arms, touched their hands, and handed over what she thought was love. Their cry of disgust let her know that instead of love, she’d handed them shame. She couldn’t stop. She tried, but it just kept pouring from her. All the broken pieces of her body. It seemed like she was made of pain. The next person was given regret. The one after that, loneliness. Desperate destruction. Everything she had went. Until she was all empty. And everyone else was left holding the ugly pieces of her. Seeing her with new eyes. Seeing her bare. Afraid, she began gathering as much of herself from the others as she could; accepting the pity and sadness and disgust and anger they handed it all back with. (She ignored the love. She didn’t appear to even see it. After all that searching, it may seem unfair that she was blind to the very thing she’d spent her life trying to find. It is.) Double burdened, she retreated to try and pull herself together. She almost succeeded, but every time she looked in the mirror, she could see the seams of the places where she’d come undone. She could see the empty places representing the pieces of herself she could never get back.

[that’s where i woke up… but i think there’s more, i just don’t know what it is yet.]