Member-only story
Sometimes our brains just write stories we forgot we still needed to end.
The past has a weird way of knocking on your door, sometimes it shows up in dreams.
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It’s been happening for nights now. Not every night, but often enough to leave me waking up confused, quiet, slightly heart-heavy for reasons I can’t explain to anyone out loud.
I’ve been dreaming about people I haven’t thought about in a long time.
Old friends. Old versions of myself.
And once, painfully, a person I used to feel everything for and surprisingly, his new life — complete with rings, engagement-level symbolism, and an unsettling closeness that felt too real to be just a dream.
In the dream, we were friends. Casual. Laughing. Even talking about love. And still, there was this small ache in me — the kind of ache that doesn’t scream but sits quietly behind your ribs and watches everything like it still matters.
I woke up disturbed. Not because I wanted that life back.
Not because I missed it.
But because the emotion I felt in that dream — heartbreak, confusion, a pang of being left behind, like maybe I’m doing something wrong with…
