Ghostly Dreams of a First Love

Sometimes I dream of never meeting you. I dream of the dates I would’ve never experienced, the love thrown in the void.

Would I even know what love is without you? Would I still believe in fate, or true love?

Would I still dream of this if it never happened?

Will you forever been entangled in my brain even if my memory was wiped? Are you engrained into every piece of my being?
 

Am I doomed to forever yearn for something I ruined?
 

I dream of dancing in the rain, Ventura highway blasting from my car already on. You pulled me out of the driver seat and into your arms, we swayed and laughed like it was the best movie I’ve ever had the pleasure of starring in. You held me when I cried, even though I was crying over our break up, the one I facilitated. You’d make me breakfast in bed because you knew I needed food before I was really me, because you loved the real me, the words I sputtered out when I was in between asleep and awake. I loved the way you’d laugh with me the sound echos in my brain replaying like the voice note I have of you screaming ‘I LOVE YOU’. I listen to it when I feel unlovable.
 

I dream of who I’d be without the impression of you in my soul. It feels halved without your input, no one able to fill the black hole hungry in your absence. Every soul entering feeds the feeling of emptiness. I yearn for lust unable to fulfill myself the way you did.

Even before we were together you loved me. Unconditional was a word I was conditioned to be wary of. But you flipped the script. You found me shattered and carved your hands to the bones picking up the pieces. Yet I thanked you by throwing myself on the ground once more.

When I dream, I’m banished to a third person point of view. Stuck watching you slip away from me while I float above. My ghostly cries pleading for forgiveness fall on deaf ears.
 

Sometimes I dream of you, waking up disappointed in the emptiness in my bed, longing to dream again.