I woke up with a start, the vivid images from my dream digging into my skin. I was shaking, sweat pouring profusely from its glands. I tried to shake off the feeling, trying to get a grip on reality. My arms on instinct snaked their way onto my husband’s side, and I breathed a sigh of relief to find him there. I began to shake him awake, afraid of being alone. The room seemed to be closing in on me, the darkness and silence as deafening and as blinding. He soon woke up, sluggishly opening his eyes. These eyes whoever, widened at the sight of me.
“Honey? Are you alright? What happened?” He frantically searched my body, his eyes scanning every inch of me. When he was done, he turned back to me, looking at me intensely in the eye.
“What’s wrong?”
I began shaking again, and he hugged me tight. The warmness emanating from him was a gift from heaven, as I inhaled his scent of pine trees and mint. I tried to calm myself again, breathing in heavily. He pulled me closer to him, his big arms wrapped around me. I took a big breath, before burying myself deeper to his chest.
“I-I had a bad dream.” I said, my voice shaking with every word. When he didn’t say a thing, it urged me to continue. “You left me. You said you were tired of me. Then you shot me in the heart, and ran as far away as you could.”
Everything flashed in my mind, the feeling of loneliness, and death that was slowly creeping into me. To some, I might sound like a lovesick teenager, but this man was literally my rock. He made it impossible for me to live without him. Without him, I’d be a walking dead person. My husband only kissed my forehead, trying to calm me. I didn’t even know I was crying till he wiped a tear from my eye.
“It was just a dream, alright honey? Just a dream. I’m here.”
