You know what sucks? Wanting to sleep so you don’t feel the pain anymore but finding yourself living more horrors through nightmares you can’t wake up from. I couldn’t wake up.
A close friend hopes that I stop beating myself up over what happened. I had begun to tell him what happened, hoping for someone to tell me it was going to be okay. I’m grateful for him; I will never be able to thank him enough. He told me, over and over, trying to get it through my mind, that it doesn’t matter what people say or how much I beat myself up because it wasn’t my fault. He held me as I sobbed. My entire body was probably shaking. For once, I felt strong to be crying. I needed it so badly that I wasn’t scared to cry. I wasn’t scared that time because I believed he’d hold me together and give me time. When I calmed, he got me on my feet and pulled me into his arms. The warmth soothed my heart. He reassured me again and again that I was safe now. And, in his arms, I believed him.
But when I went to sleep in attempt to run away from my thoughts, somehow they still played in my sleep, in the back of my mind. I couldn’t wake to stop them. I couldn’t shake them out of my mind.
He wanted to fight off the demons in my mind with love. He wanted to shield me from the pain. But I don’t think he ever thought I’d wake up in the mornings with a scream in my throat but no voice to be found.