dreams are made winding

it was definetely one of the weirdest dreams i've ever had. it was me and her, laying down in a bed (but whose bed was it? i couldn't recognize the space), talking about ourselves. about our past, our common past, our failures and open sores. it was everything there - the bleeding, the sorrow, the feeling of loss, of failure, of a fallen love that struggles to stay alive through the memory when there's nothing else to feed it. the pain was also there, when we wispered i miss you. it was me and her. only, it wasn't her, for the midnight hair, slate-black eyes and ebony skin were not hers, they were from someone else. someone else i've met a long, long time ago, and who i haven't seen since the day we met for the first time.

and then everything was blurred. the ebony girl vanished in the mist, and i was in some unknown street. there were other people there, but despite the all-too familiar conversation we were having, i knew none of them. i was alone with everyone. and we were talking about loss and loneliness, about the recurring thoughts i have about the long-time future. about darkness and despair.

and then i woke up. and dizziness took over.