Fresh Cut

Interactions

Interactions

Why did it feel like something other than my own dream-thoughts was present here, as it felt like I was sinking uncontrollably from one high to an unusual low? Like something was taunting me to think down a certain track. But no matter how much I debated this, these strange thoughts just wouldn’t go away like dark tar stuck to a road…

Was I dreaming…?

Pain is good. This thought resonated time and time, over and over as I stared into the mirror. I knew emotional pain was a feeling of realness that could allow me to have feelings, as I can feel when something’s hurt, and then the emotion that surfaces from that that begins to form, direct and take hold. But maybe if it was physically possible for me to cry, then I could also feel the release with my thoughts, feelings and emotions that apparently comes when tears are naturally flowing, as I’ve never yet ever shed a single tear.

A grey haze floated over the mirror glass. I put my hands to my face to hold them in a place of comfort but also felt the strain as my fingers began to tighten their grasp. Why won’t the tears fall…why can’t I feel the…I paused and breathed in…the realness of emotion when one can cry and shed tears?

To have this immaculate release of emotion would mean more than words can say.

The haze faded and I could now see my reflection more clearly in the mirror. I gasped and my hands flew back up to my face and began searching, gripping, trying any form of action…anything to feel what my eyes were seeing…

The tears were flowing beautifully on the face in the reflection in the mirror. I gave up the anxiousness in my searching to feel the tears on my own cheeks. Instead I brushed my hands down under my eyes, across my cheekbones and then looked down at my dry palms.

I scrunched my eyes shut and felt the inner turmoil of pain within me burn like fire. I could see the face in the mirror again in my imagination, but it only brought me further despair.

The tears gracefully rolling and streaming were beautiful, like tears of happiness.

I yearned to see that again, even if I couldn’t actualize it; to see myself cry for the first time in all my existence. I opened my eyes and reached forward to place my hand on the mirror connecting the two images together, to really feel like it was real. But my hand stopped just short of the glass’s surface when my eyes met those in the mirror and saw the same pained expression as my own. I could clearly see into the mirror and then realized the haze was now completely gone and I was now aware that I was standing in a room looking into a mirror on a dresser.

I placed a hand on my arm, the pressure of contact making me realize that I had just had a dream about looking in the mirror…and was now…awake.

Was this dream letting me know of a possible future, in that maybe one day I could feel real tears fall down my cheeks...or was it coming from desperation in needing some release emotionally or in my heart? I mused.

This was yet another dream I’d had over the last few weeks that was different and new. What was going on in my life that was affecting my dreams and causing them to be enriched in an almost deep, vivid demonstration of the inner turmoil and happiness from the depth of my soul?

I snuggled back into my duvet and drifted back to sleep feeling completely numb in not wanting to anticipate seeing tears again, but also out of sheer exhaustion from the intensity of everything. Subconsciously I was also aware that Abe was leaving again for Arizona and we only had some of today to go…

The tears gracefully rolling and streaming were beautiful, like tears of happiness. Yes, they were there as I began to realize I was dreaming again.

I stared into the mirror and saw the tears fall with speed down my cheeks in my reflection, like rivers of release. I raised my fingers up to my cheeks again but just before I made contact I jumped at the sight of seeing Abe standing there in the mirror’s reflection. I jolted awake and sat up with a start but then feeling the weight of sleep begging me back to my dream, I let myself be pulled back into the intenseness that was in the imagery. I got a second jolt of shock when the dream replayed and Abe appeared behind me again. I didn’t turn around but could see he was looking at me with only a fullness of love and gentle passion in his expression, just as if we were having a face to face moment of special interaction that only we understood in its communication.

I looked back at him and he looked so content. He was holding a small black book in his hand that had a pattern of a key engraved on the cover. I was intrigued by the book and the picture of a key, but I couldn’t hide my unsure expression. Had he seen the pain, the tears, felt the waves of emotion from me that soared through my everything as I engaged and also observed the actual tears that the person in the mirror had? I wondered. Who was this girl that could shed tears? They had said…I breathed in…this wasn’t physically possible for me…

This was…something only a miracle could bring about…to be healed.