Dreamsomnia

It kept coming back time and again. The iteration made me feel restless. I wasn't tired of its existence, but I was disgusted with my cowardice. How would I ever come to terms with it what I did? I wondered if I could find peace after death meets me.

I didn't intend to be unjust or to run away from the situation. Then, with time, I grew desperate for some amount of security, and I gave up. I gave up on my dream. My new found identity was a mismatch for my happiness and peace. My bank balance was secure but my sleep was ruined night afer night. The inhibitions and the guilt I had within me was my biggest failure. What is success when you have killed your dream.

I deserve zilch because not for once did I care about my heart. Disguised as a perfect example of a "successful woman" for the society, I plead my dream to stop mocking me every single night. Forgiveness is what I seek for having broken my promise. A promise to give it life, to keep it safe and to live with it for real.

No psychiatrist can cure my "dreamsomnia". The only medicine that can help me recover entirely is a new beginning. A beginning, where I remain loyal to my dream till my last breath. 

©songbriti

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