I have been trying to walk it off for some time now. I would run, but in this dream I cannot.

It was raining. This was probably the first dream I have had with rain in it. I guess walking in the rain a lot has brought it out of me. I have been walking in the rain to hide my tears, and now I rain on the inside. In this dream I was walking through the rain. Somehow she contacted me. She told me she wanted to meet me to discuss what I had said. Of course I did not want to, but then again anything to see her again. It reminded me of that cold August grey sky when she asked to meet me for a coffee to talk things over. (My dreams all had clever back stories with false memories).

In the dream memory I had said “no” among other blunt cold statements.

Because… I didn’t want to. I really did not want to. But I was going to this time, to make amends. Of course it was too late anyway. Suddenly she was gone, and I was questioning if any of it was real, but then I saw a familiar friend. It was Martin, a long dead cat. His fur was white with a little bit of black. He was a big cat. His immortal brother Michael still lives. Martin was walking though the rain with me. I watched the pitter-patter of his feet as he scurried towards me. He followed me through the rain to the end of the street down a hill. I realised we were in a city he did not know, so I picked him up. He was a big cat and felt heavy in my hands. I stroked his wet fur as I began to walk back up the hill towards my house. I held my head up to stay away from that damp cat smell. Eventually I put him down and he ran ahead. The rain still fell hard, as did the wind blow. As I came close to catching up with Martin the cat, I saw him fall. Along the right side of the road was a fence. At the bottom of the drop was a tunnel not accessible by foot. I grabbed the shaking rickety fence and I looked over. I saw that Martin had landed on all fours. I started shouting his name. He looked around confused and lost, but eventually my call reached him. He looked up. I panicked. Vehicles travelled through this tunnel. It was night, there was not much traffic, but he was in danger. I had to get down. I looked around for anything. But there was nothing. I looked back down to see if he was okay. We were separated by what seemed like an infinite distance. I could see him, and he could see me, but that was it. I kept trying to get a better look. I was walking along the fence. At one point a bramble bush caught me. I pushed through this obstacle, ignoring the pain, and ignoring the fact that I was pressed up against a fence that felt like it could break at any moment. I started screaming his name, running back down the hill hoping, praying, and thinking that surely the tunnel must come to an end at the bottom of the hill. Perhaps if I keep shouting his name he will follow my call to safety. He followed a bit, but after ten metres I lost his sight. I ran sprinting to the bottom. I thought I had found a road that leads to were the tunnel ends.

I shouted once more “Martin!” and then some gruff voices replied.

“There’s no Martin here” one of them said.

Ragged people slowly emerged from every crook and crevice in what I thought was the entrance to the tunnel.

“Does this lead to the tunnel?” I asked.

“There’s no access to that tunnel” they responded.

Martin the cat was gone. I couldn’t get to him. I was powerless. But I pushed forward anyway…

Later on I found myself in a climbing hanger. There were lots of climbers and gymnasts and other sorts training. There was a girl there. She wasn’t her; just a friend. She talked to me and comforted me. She said she would find me a princess, but I didn’t care about anyone else. I still don’t. Eventually because I was in the climbing hangar I began to climb. There were three ropes that hung parallel across the room I was in. In the next room were all sorts of proper climbing stuff. I could see some people filming some stunts they were performing. I would have watched but I did not care. I did not care for that. Anything which I once cared for I no longer do. I grabbed the rope above me bare handed. I felted the coarseness of it as I began to lift my body weight up. I started lifting myself repeatedly. I kept going trying to tire my heart out; trying to get stronger. I did this for minutes before I stopped. I realised I had already become stronger. My body was not tired, and my heart was still beating for her.

Then there was a knock at my door. I answered. Blood covered the face of one of my friends. They told me their story and I wanted to listen. I wanted to care, but I all I could do was think about her.

I’ve gone mad. Maybe I always was…

Hopelessness; it was the theme of last night’s dream. Trying to save a cat that is already dead. Perhaps there is something to not giving up when an obstacle gets in your way. Perhaps in life we need to smash through all obstacles regardless of the dangers involved. I now follow my heart and not my brain. Perhaps the heart cannot see obstacles or road blocks. It merely sees what it wants and it keeps moving forward regardless of whether it gets tangled on brambles or rose thorns. Do hearts get torn to pieces? Or are they unbreakable?

Narrator: The Dreamer has decided to stop listening to the brain.

Perhaps the demon really did take it away.

Or perhaps the brain contradicts the madness he is experiencing.

Is your heart unbreakable?

Forbidden dream

Faint memory of a touch
Tender warmth
Here you are
Clutching your chest
A feeling of tender flesh
Wounds that never heal
A love that never goes
You thought you just had to believe
With wings of beauty you felt you could fly
But those wings never got you off the ground
A lifetime apart
Chaos, rancour, and all the devils in between
As the ground crumbles beneath your feet
You try to show unquestioning faith
In this forbidden dream
A love you can watch
Slowly drifting away
As you try to touch
Lost in the eternity of hidden intent
Doubting your very existence
You’re all alone
Here I am
There you are
I hide my hands inside the pockets of my soul
They tremble almost as much as my racing heart
I walk in circles
My love was a forbidden dream
A devout decadence
Lost in the crystal clear
Innocent see

Narrator: A forbidden dream is still a dream.

Flowers in the Rain

The torrential downpour fell
The bouquet of flowers sat quietly
Drowned out and drowned upon
Soaked and drenched on the damp wet pavement

A not strong enough grip and the flowers fall
An open hand once holding onto love
Lone petals washing away
Flowers in the rain

Narrator: Another heartbreak…

Falling apart

Impatient heart
Stubborn heart
Broken heart
I keep trying to put it back together
But it keeps falling apart

Narrator: There is no escape for the Dreamer who is stuck in the cycle of falling into dreamscapes and heartbreaks.

To be continued...

@RiskDebonair
Irish Writer, Poet, & Lover

Previously

Dream 859
Dream 8
Dream 7
Dream 6
Dream 589
Dream 5
Dream 4
Dream 3
Dream 2
Dream 1
The Dream Before the First Dream