woke when it was dark, wait for day to start

April 11, 2013

For as long as I can remember I've had moments in my dreams where part of my brain wakes up but my body stays asleep. In the midst of an unremarkable dream a switch flips and suddenly I'm awake inside my head in the darkness and I try to open my eyes, move my head, make a sound, but my limbs are dead weight and my tongue is an anchor.

I can feel the panic starting to crawl up my throat and I can feel Jon's skin, warm underneath my hand. If I could just squeeze his arm -- I try over and over and over and over to force my fingers to move, desperate to let him know I'm there. Nothing happens.

I'm screaming and screaming inside my head, straining against a body that might as well belong to somebody else, chewing on the effort of trying to force my jaw to spit out noise. The minutes feel like hours. Sometimes the minutes are hours. Nothing happens.

The past six months I've been walking through a waking dream. Things happen and I'm not really there. I look in the mirror and I don't recognize my face. I sit down to gather my thoughts and stare at an empty page.

I suspect I might be made of wires.

I've been waiting for the fog to lift and waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting waiting waiting waiting waiting waiting waiting waiting

Nothing happens.
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