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[gracephadora]

A Dream of Home

I had a dream that I cannot stop thinking about and I want to write it down. Maybe it is a premonition? A yearning?

The countertop linoleum was cool under my hands as I ran a rag over it again and again and again. I couldn't make myself stop. It was mystical seeing these counters that I knew my husband built just for me; he made it perfect. The edges were rounded and the wood was light. It brought so much joy knowing that he worked hard on these simply because I mentioned that I wanted them. I paused while working. My husband. What exactly did he look like? Why couldn't I remember? Because this is a dream.

I stood in front of the dining table. It was oval, just like the one that my Aunt Judy had. After countless meals at that table, I had dreamed of having one of my own just like it. I sat a plate down on the surface. It was so new it wasn't scarred yet. A bubble of excitement filled me. How many meals will my new husband and I share here before it tells a story like hers? That dread rose again inside of me. My husband I couldn't remember. He feels more real than being awake felt. He was tall and husky. He had dark hair and a beard that touched his collarbones. But, why couldn't I remember his face? You're dreaming.

Again, I am in a new spot. My hands are grubby with dirt and I can feel it prickling the skin under my nails. The flowerbed under the window needed some color so I was shoving purple mums deep into the Earth. This felt more real than reality. The sun was hot on my back and I knew that the scent wafting out of the open windows was a roast that was going to be supper. He was due to be home soon and I knew that he would ooh and ahh at my meager attempt at making a home. I was excited to see him again. He was at work and it was dragging longer than normal. He would come in and kick off his shoes before giving me a hug and heading to shower. After, we would eat the meal I made and spend some time lounging on the sofa. It's how we always spend our evenings. Cozy. Quaint. New.

Newlyweds making a home together. But I did not know him. He knew me, my soul felt. He knew how gentle to be with me and how to never raise his voice, which he never did. He knew that I wanted a white house with a blue roof and matching shudders, which he promptly gave to me. He knew that I took a while to open up about issues, so he never pressed too hard on any problem but was always there to listen.

I heard the sharp cry of my timer and walked back inside the house. I set about completing supper. He would be home soon and I couldn't wait. I never was this eager to see any of my previous relationships. I couldn't wait for him to be home again. Dishes were being sat on the table when he came in. His shirt was unbuttoned and he was taking off his belt. Anytime I tried to look at his face my dream grew fuzzy. The evening proceeded as normal: Hug, shower, eat, and pass time on the sofa. By bedtime I was nervous. I never slept in a dream and I didn't want to wake up. Yet, as I crawled under the crisp linens and turned out the lamp on my nightstand I knew that I would wake up here.

And I did. Days passed and I felt every second of them. Every moment was more real than the last. The scents, the sounds, the conversations all passed at a normal speed. I had a routine that I stuck to daily.

Waking up didn't seem to be a problem anymore. This was reality and the life that I had before I went to sleep was a dream. It grew fainter as days passed.

One day I realized that I needed to go to the store. I needed something to cook for supper and I had forgotten to go the day before. I got in the car and drove to the supermarket. I grabbed a buggy and went about shopping before heading back to my car. Someone grabbed me. I was terrified. What did they want? Would they hurt me? I remembered screaming and a flurry of activity before I shakily got in my car and drove home. I forgot to get my groceries. After my car was parked in the driveway I called my husband. I wanted to call him before, but I didn't even know how to describe what happened. He answered quickly and I felt a small stab of guilt on pulling him away from work when I was unharmed. But I was so relieved when he said he would be home soon.

I was still shaking as I stood in the kitchen. My hands were unsteady and when I heard him rush in the front door I ran to him. I didn't realize that something was stopping me from trusting him until now. Suddenly I realized he would never leave me like I've always been so scared of. He was always there when I needed him. God, did I need him.

He wrapped me in his arms and held me. A feeling of home overwhelmed me. It felt like it was suffocating me. My soul was finally at rest and I was home because I was in his arms. I was terrified to tell him why I was really scared.

It wasn't the strange man who grabbed me or even that I could have gotten hurt. I was scared because of the baby that was so slowly growing inside of me. My secret. The child he and I would be having. Together. Creating a family.

I told him the news because I couldn't stop crying. He was thrilled and he held me again. He didn't pull away. He never pulled away first.

I woke up, alone on my bed. I had fallen asleep and waking up made my head hurt. It felt like someone took my heart from my chest and crushed it. My husband and the lovely life we created together was a dream.

It feels silly to say that I mourned a life I didn't even really have. Yet, as I lay there with the winter sun streaming in through my windows, I yearned for him. To be home.

[gracephadora]

[gracephadora]

Jihyun Yun, from Some Are Always Hungry; “Reversal”

[Text ID: “I so want to survive this. Please lead me whole into another season so I may dare begin again.”]

[gracephadora]

May Sarton, "Of Grief", Selected Poems

[gracephadora]

“and i’d like to think

that if we never speak again,

one day you’ll look back on me fondly

as somebody who didn’t fear the future

when they pictured you by their side.

i’d like to think

you’ll remember me

as somebody who loved you

the best they could,

even if it wasn’t always what

you wanted or needed.

i’d like to think

you’ll remember me

as somebody you could

have spent your life with,

if only the timing had been right.

if only we’d worked for it

just a little bit

harder.”

- catarine hancock, author of shades of lovers and sometimes i fall asleep thinking about you

[gracephadora]

It's in the quiet I miss you most, when my mind has the chance to wander and my heart has a moment to remember.

Lola Lawrence

[gracephadora]

Is this all that life has to offer me? Or maybe it’s what I have to offer life - which is nothing.

I feel nothing so I think I am nothing. I think therefore I am.

[gracephadora]

[ID: A page of a play. It reads as follows, "Theseus: Stop. Give me your hand. I am your friend. / Herakles: I fear to stain your clothes with blood. / Theseus: Stain them, I don't care." End text.]

Herakles - Euripides (Tr. Anne Carson)

[gracephadora]

“Your absence has gone through me Like thread through a needle. Everything I do is stitched with its color.”

— W. S. Merwin, Separation

[gracephadora]

[gracephadora]

I'll put my heart on the line for you 🐰💖🐰🧺

[gracephadora]

𝙵𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝟷, 𝟷𝟿𝟸𝟸 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝙾𝚏 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚣 𝙺𝚊𝚏𝚔𝚊, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟺-𝟷𝟿𝟸𝟹

[ID: February 1. Nothing, merely tired. END ID]

[gracephadora]

“Someone somewhere is searching for you in every person they meet.”

— Unknown

[gracephadora]

“But grief compels me, maybe even more than sleep. I am waiting for something to last. I know nothing will.”

— Sanna Wani, “Who is the Sun, Asking for Sleep?”, My Grief, the Sun

[gracephadora]

haley heynderickx, jo / arthur kearns via @obsob / minnie bruce pratt, the fact of the garden 

[gracephadora]

Franz Kafka // Sylvia Plath

[gracephadora]

  ― Billy-Ray Belcourt, A History of My Brief Body

[text ID: To love someone is firstly to confess: I'm prepared to be devastated by you.]