“JOHN… No, please don’t leave me… John!” I shrieked, jolting awake in an empty bed. My heart was racing as I realized it was just a nightmare. I’m Rosa, and I just had the worst dream ever. My husband John had abandoned me in some tropical paradise, surrounded by turquoise waters and swaying palm trees. As the morning sun peeked through the curtains, I tried to shake off the uneasy feeling.
In the dream, the sun was blazing high in the sky, casting long shadows on the golden sand. The air was filled with the sweet scent of hibiscus and the soothing sound of waves lapping against the shore. Despite the beauty around me, a deep sense of dread had taken over. John’s figure grew smaller and smaller as he walked away, his back turned to my desperate pleas.
I sat up in bed, my heart still pounding. The room was quiet, a stark contrast to the vivid, chaotic scene in my dream. I could hear the distant chirping of birds and the soft hum of morning traffic outside. The familiar surroundings of our bedroom slowly brought me back to reality. The soft, beige walls and the comforting clutter of our life together were a sharp reminder that John was still here, with me.
But the dream had felt so real. I could still feel the hot sand under my feet, the sunburn on my skin, and the emptiness in my heart as John disappeared into the horizon. Shaking my head, I tried to dispel the lingering fear. It was just a dream, I told myself, just a figment of my imagination.
Yet, as I got out of bed and prepared for the day ahead, the nagging feeling of loss and abandonment stayed with me. I resolved to talk to John about it, to hold him a little closer, to remind myself that dreams aren’t reality, and that sometimes, they’re just our minds playing tricks on us.
