A Dream of Lost Love
Carl Jung, Dreamwork, and Hidden Meanings
Learda Shkurti on Pexels
You looked different when you came over. It was a new style for you and I liked it.
You asked if I wanted to go for a walk and we did.
I held your arm like I use to you and you spoke of how things had changed: you were going travelling soon, and I joked I’d see you there.
You looked at peace and happy.
I felt conflicted; bittersweet.
We went to a club and listened to music. We got our picture taken and I found it online to show to you. You took a glance and remarked it was nice before turning your focus away.
I continued to look at it. It was a reminder you had moved on.
I said I needed to go. I was worried how this experience would effect me the next day. You asked me to stay and said if you hadn’t of ended things we might still be together. I responded with saying I was imploding and that distance was an issue.
I felt self-conscious when we were alone and kissed, the thought of things going further on my mind.
I buried my head in the crease between your neck and shoulder and hugged you.
It felt comforting.
