5:24 AM

For the past 2 weeks, I've been having the same intrusive dream, to the T, every time I sleep.

It's me, and him, but it's not him. And he thinks I'm not me. In fact, he thinks I've *never* been me. That I've never been honest about my feelings. That I've never been who I said I was all this time.

He- for what was just a dream- opened up to me about this. His feelings. His own concerns. But that voice. That voice that came out of me...It wasn't mine. It sounded like me, it had the same tone as me, but I knew it wasn't mine. My lips felt desynced.

Nothing about my body language represented the emotion I was feeling. It felt so soulless, my words were just anemic excuses. How can I blame him for not believing me? He felt so betrayed. I saw it in his eyes.

That same second, he'd lose all hope in me, like he was waiting for this day. For me to "slip up". Like we were both just playing pretend, on a big stage, with no audience but ourselves. I'd watch the sky and everything around me grow dark. I'd watch his figure blend into the nothingness. I'd hear him speak to me,

"You're a fine actor, I will give you that. Never have I felt so used before. It's almost thrilling, being the toy in the hands of such craftsmanship."

"How foolish of me. To love a whittler such as yourself."

I've tried forcing myself awake. I've tried running over to him. I've tried speaking over myself. But it's like I'm trapped, forced to watch myself say the same thing to him. Over and over again. And all I can do left is watch that same look he gives me, darkening. His expression fading into this mix of anguish and rage.

He kills me mid sentence every time.

And I always wake up afterwards.

Do you know how torturing this is? Do you know how colossal this experience has affected me? When I saw his face again, his *real* face, that face he gives me when he's worried, *truly* worried, I hurt him. I don't know. I just slapped him. There's nothing I could do, right? I'm just in a dream.

It grounded me pretty quickly when I *felt* that burning on my hands. He let me slap him. It grounded me pretty quickly when I felt that wave of regret. It grounded me when I looked up to see his expression again.

Ironic, though, one thing didn't change. I watched the world go dark again. There, I felt ready for this same, never-ending nightmare to loop. I just braced myself for those same haunting words again. I felt my body go cold, and grow numb. Like my soul was already crawling out of my very body.

But the room just got warmer. And he just got closer. And he just kept staring at me. He's giving me this look.

He said something. I don't remember what. But I remember feeling guilty for everything. How could I have done such a thing? To him? He didn't do anything to deserve that. So I cried.

Do you think he gets that same dream, too?