Thursday, February 11, 2010

Waking Up is the Hardest Part




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When you're dreaming with a broken heart
Then waking up is the hardest part
You roll outta bed and down on your knees
And for a moment you can hardly breathe
Wondering was she really here?
Is she standing in my room?
No she's not, 'cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone....

Have you ever had days mornings like that? Mornings where you just feel you're not up to going through the day.. because you feel like you don't have the strength to live through it.. at least for that day. You don't want to hear about how there's so much more to life to enjoy. You don't want to hear that you'll feel better if only you got your sorry ass up and start living life out there in the great big world. You just want to cover your face with a pillow and wait for life to pass you by.

I feel like I've just been rudely awaken from a dream. A short, sweet, wonderful little dream. The kind so vivid you find yourself wondering if was really a dream at all. The kind so intense, so real the emotions that went with it somehow gets imbued in your heart and you can somehow recall exactly how you felt, long after it's over. In the dream, you're flying.. you're soaring through the air.. and in dreams, it's impossible to fall, it's impossible to crash. You look straight at the eye of the sun with your naked eye, you feel it's fire and warmth passing through your body. You close your eyes and let the entire experience sink in and you feel the sensation fully penetrating your body. Every touch, every sound, every look, every laugh sets off a spark in your heart. And somehow, you feel more alive in that dream that you did when awake.

And then you wake up.... suddenly and abruptly. And soon, reality comes crashing down on your like violent waves over a rocky shore. Reality bites... and most of the time, it hurts. You shove your head under the pillow, in vain attempt to somehow go back to that dream. It's futile.  Dreams are impossible to repeat.. even fools know that. But hearts are often stubborn; it works on it's own terms, and learns at it's own pace. In many ways, I have a silly little heart; hopelessly idealistic and perhaps a tad out of sync with reality. A foolish little heart that stubbornly wants to dream on.... Stupid eh?

Who would have thought a dream could touch your heart so deeply and affect you so greatly. A dream so vivid it felt almost like reality. Or was it a reality so amazing it felt more like a dream? On some days, it really felt like both were true. And that my dear........ is the honest truth.

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