I woke up from a scary dream with my heart pounding. Looking around I realized I was awake, and like all so many recent nights, I had just seen a bad dream. The sudden rush of relief swiftly turned back into sadness. I sipped some warm water and closed my eyes, hoping I won't dream again.
While others, in their dreams live what they fear, or see the inexplicable, or fall off a cliff, or simply experience something they just love to share, I re-live my past - but only in the exact same way as I already have lived. And night after night I wake up in sweat and go right back to sleep believing that re-living those mistakes would be easier than living now their consequences.
I have no reason to live whatever life is left. But I choose to suffer in the darkness of my past. The past, when I pursued pleasure in indulgence, denied guilt in deception, and sought redemption in walking away.
Today I ask for one more chance; not to live the good days, but only to, not to echo the mistakes I made. But when conformity to reality sets in, in anguish I close my eyes and take to living over my errs. The errs that led me to vacate my family - driven by the thought of leaving behind proud memories for my wife to live by, and for my son a car he ever so desired.
Now time has passed, and someday I will too, but I never will know that today my family stands with no one to claim, as the son I left behind has fallen to the same fate.
Life isn't always made to order. But if it was hand made, I contorted it myself.
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