As Gravity Pulled Me Under

The steps grew heavier with each push against the cool concrete. Gravity dragging me like a magnet to the Earth. But my eyes stayed focused on the point on the horizon where my goal was.
And then I rose my foot again. I looked up at the startling blue above me, and as I grew nearer to the lamppost, my steps lightened.  My hands locked onto the freezing metal post, and I felt my legs slowly raising upward, into the sea above.
My light hair danced around my face, licking the air down into blue.
Or was it up?
Pain staggered through my arms as I held onto the post. The sky below seemed endlessly clear.
And I saw a dot.
Just a small dot.
Laughter evaded my mouth.
A dot?
My fingers loosened, my heart lept into my throat.
Air sung across my face, kissing me with teeth.
But I began falling upward.
Gravity tugged me up, and I was flipped.
Suddenly the dot was growing the larger, and I saw a glimpse of the pale hair.
Wind surged around, and I was shocked by the sudden shattering of the mirror I was in.
The waves were smooth around me, and I looked up at the thick metal grates above.
And I looked down as gravity pulled me under.
As gravity pulled me under.

Dreamer

Dreams that I have, always seem to confuse me.
Either they terrify so much that I feel paralyzed, or that I want to lock my door,
or they feel right in the dream, but I have little to no clue what it could have meant when I wake up.
Now, I know the second one most people feel.
That in the dream it makes complete sense, but in the awoken world, it doesn't.
Or the dream is simply forgotten.
But I'm a dreamer.
A dreamer who remembers most of my dreams. And some of them... well to be blunt, they bloody terrified me.
But then I'll have a dream, so heartbreakingly lovely, that I wake up so incredibly sad.
I've only had two dreams I remember like that.
One was about love, the other of death.
But the dreams that catch me off guard, ha, well, suddenly I'll dream of a person I haven't thought of in a long time. Just to give a whirlwind of emotions come tumbling through me as I awake.

But how can a person know what they're feeling when they wake up is honest and true, in comparison to the effects of what emotion was manifested in the dream. The dream that felt so real that you could touch items. Feel the grit, or the breath coming from your throat.
Because I can't.
And that, is why I am so, completely, utterly confused with my emotions.

Last night I dreamt of a person I haven't spoken to in about a year. And they were playing hockey. (Not their favourite sport may I add) But they were playing hockey on a large team in a soccer arena. The area looked like grass, but they were obviously skating on it.  And I stood at the entrance in the dim lighting, between six large square cement posts.  And after, he came out and I hid. But he found me.
And he almost kissed me. But that was when I woke up.

This boy, whom I haven't spoken with in a year, I have never had romantic feelings towards. And it's dreams like this where I can't tell if I made a mistake. Because I can't force a part a reality to a thought.

But one thing that brings me back to the realization that it was a dream and not real is the fact that I was in love with the idea of it.
Whether it be about a boy, or a family member, or even an island of some sort, it is the idea that enticed me as I woke up. Not the actual thought of ,"If I had stayed with him, that is how I would have felt."
No. The way I have found to separate the confusing feelings of reality to dreams is the idea of it. To pull a part what I loved or hated about it, so I could explain I. Do. Not. Feel. That.


But believe me, I know the feelings.
And it's hard to tell your mind that when it feels enticed or fearful.
But it helps. Even the slightest bit, it helps.

-Em.