The nightmare

I had a dream last night.  Actually, it was more of a nightmare. You appeared. I knew it wasn’t going to end well but I kept on imagining, I couldn’t wake up. That’s the fascinating thing about nightmares. They only wake you when they’ve made their point, not a second earlier. I knew I was in for a scare from the moment I saw your face.

You stood in front of me. You got down on one knee and took out a tiny jewelry box from your pocket. We were surrounded by a million friends but I couldn’t have felt more lonely. It all played out in slow motion. The panic, the anxiety rising and taking over my body. I froze still. You presented the ring and asked that very special question. Except to me it wasn’t special. To me, your words were yet another way to tighten the ropes you had already fastened around my body. My hands trembled. It was the ugliest ring in the world and yet you forced it on my finger, smiling, nodding to the crowd as if acknowledging your victory. I wanted to scream but no sound escaped my mouth. Instead I stood there in remorse. It was as if I was seeing my own funeral. A silent prayer. A quick goodbye to the life I had, knowing I would never live the same way. Your eyes drenched me of life.

I woke up. In panic I lifted my hand in front of me. No ring. Only the deep scar of what once was but is no longer.

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