nightmares.

I have been startled awake from a nightmare. It’s 6:30 in the morning (conveniently, I think) & I cannot get it out of my head. There have only been a few times where a nightmare haunted me so much that I had to write about it. Literally, I think this is the second time where I’ve been jolted out of my sleep & it bothered me so much that I had to rid of it by writing it down — by force, almost — onto some kind of blank canvas. Before I can ever get back to a normal sleep, I want to write it here.

Jonathan had been offered a web designing job in Japan. We had just arrived after a long, tiring flight from LA to Tokyo. It was such a dramatic move that my sister even came down with her boyfriend to just “be in the area” while we solidified our move. We lived in a flat in a very tall building, at least 60 stories, overlooking the valleys & the city. In my dream, I had never felt so alone. I didn’t even want to be there & I could feel the anxiety creeping back up in spite of the little blue pills. But with Jonathan, I would travel to the ends of the Earth, so I followed him.

The next morning, we began to make changes in our apartment. We were looking online at some curtains for our 15 bay windows & furniture for our intricately designed apartment (almost like a L shape, but it was beautiful). He & I began talking about it, envisioning what we wanted this place to be like. Even as I spoke, my voice quivered. I did not want to be here. Ever since our arrival, Jonathan has been acting strange. Very distant & far off in his thoughts. Literally, the moment we landed in Japan he was so cold & cruel to me. Not cruel in the sense where he was saying horrible things; he was cruel in that he wouldn’t say anything at all. Every time I would ask him what was wrong, he disputed anything I could throw at him & we began to live in a very silent marriage. All the while I kept thinking, I don’t belong here.

After breakfast, I noticed that he was fiddling around with the computer, talking on AIM (which he never does, not even in real life, when I’m around; mainly uses it for web design purposes). I happened to glance at the computer screen & I could see that whomever he was talking to, it was a woman & her name apparently was Christina. I asked him about it & he said, “Oh, he’s just a web design client.” He. Christina? But I was so dumbfounded at his emotional absence with me that I actually believed it. Let me take a minute to say that I was an utter mess. I was depressed, drinking even. I was in these horrible looking pajamas as I didn’t give a fuck as to how I looked. I was miserable & cold & neglected & sad. I was moping around the house, still watching Lover chat to this mystery person. A few times he would laugh at something “he” had said. Then, after about an hour’s worth of conversation (give or take) he turned his chair to me, his hands clasped together. He just looked at me, smirking a bit. Meekly, I asked him what he was thinking. He shook his head & said “nothing” & walked over to his closet to get dressed. I asked, “Where are you going? I thought we were going to the city today. I don’t know my way around & I need to familiarize myself with this place or else I’m going to die here.” He continued to get dressed, silently. After putting on his last article of clothing he turned to face me, sighed & said that he had to leave me for a few hours to meet a client & he would be back by dinner — several hours from now. Somehow, I just knew of his unfaithfulness, though he hadn’t said not one word to me about it; we were strangers, remember? & that is when I found my voice. I began to ask him “Who is she? Who are you seeing? Is it Christina?” & he remained perfectly calm, not making a different facial expression. He just stared at me & said he didn’t know what I was talking about. I was screaming now & crying & throwing myself at him to get him to stay. I knew that once he walked out of the door it was over; he was never coming back & he was going to leave me here, alone, to rot. I asked him what I did wrong… he wouldn’t answer me. I asked him why he was doing this… no answer. I was crying louder & begging him to speak to me; he owed me that. Not one word escaped from his lips. So I lost it. I began to break dishes… I stormed around the house turning over chairs & screaming “talk to me, dammit. Why won’t you fucking speak to me? What are you afraid of?? I know!!! You know I know!!! Why won’t you just say something?” Still, against my fits of rage, he was calm as a cucumber; the whole time I was interrogating him, he was living life as usual. He was eating breakfast while reading the paper, never once looking up at me. He was packing his belongings in his backpack, never once looking at me. He was already gone, but still in our apartment. I was still desperate to save him…

I was on the floor now, clutching his ankles begging him not to go, crying & telling him how much I loved him. I said, “Whatever I’ve done, please, I can make it better. I’ll make it right. Just don’t leave me here.” I was going off on tangents, literally having mood swings. I was mad one moment, screaming, cursing, accusing. In the blink of an eye, I was crying & sad & begging like an idiot, not even making any sense amongst my tears & snot. I was a mess. Finally, I snapped for the last time — I asked him for his wedding ring. & that’s when he snapped. He said, “You are crazy! You have lost your mind!! I can’t be with you anymore, Ev’Yan. I don’t love you anymore. I haven’t loved you for a while. I wanted to try to, but I simply can’t!! You are acting insane & I really have to go.” He pushed me out of the way, while I was still clutching his ring in my hands. I was on my knees, crying, feeling like I was about to have a nervous breakdown. Then, suddenly, the ring snapped in two in my hands. Just like that. No reason, it just happened. & I knew… it was over. He began to collect his things & was still sticking to the same story that he had to meet a client downtown. He familiarly kissed me on the forehead & I continued to moan. He started down the 60 flights of stairs never to be seen again.

I couldn’t take anymore silence, so I followed him. I wasn’t wearing any shoes, my hair was messed up as if I just rolled out of bed, I was wearing pajamas & freezing; it was snowing outside. He got to the street & I stayed behind the glass doors of the front of our apartment. I started banging on the windows, hoping that I could get one last look from him. He looked back at something, not me, & started walking down the street. By now, everyone was looking at me like I was a lunatic, saying things in their foreign language. One lady, who was Russian I think, asked me if I was alright. I didn’t even hear her, my eyes were fixated on my husband. I walked outside to follow him. I was dodging behind doors & bushes so he wouldn’t know I was behind him. His cellphone rang; I bet it was her. He started talking, loudly, while pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his backpack. He was laughing now, delighted & in love the way he was with me, & began to light a cigarette. I was watching him behind a window of a nightclub (I don’t know why this nightclub was open in the afternoon, nor do I know why the door was wide open amidst the snow). He was loitering around this area, as if waiting to meet his “client.” While watching, a homeless woman came behind me & asked if I had a cigarette or two I could spare. I was afraid that she was going to blow my cover so I checked my pockets quickly & — strangely enough — I found a pack of cigarettes in my robe pocket & thrust them at her, telling her I needed to be left alone.

Lover was still outside, smoking a cigarette. Then, he started to approach me. I thought my cover was blown; maybe he saw me & was going to tell me to go home but he walked right past me, as I was sitting on the floor trying to keep warm with this homeless girl. Maybe I blended into the scene; I probably looked homeless, too. I was bewildered. How could he not even see me? My cheeks were stained with dirty tears, my legs & mouth shivering in the cold. I followed him inside & stood in front of him looking into his eyes. “Jonathan! Look at me! What are you doing? Why are you doing this? Lets talk, please! I’m begging you! Please, honey. I love you.” He gave me eye contact for the first time that day & ruthlessly exclaimed, “Ev’Yan! Get out of my way.” He pushed me, I fell. He began walking over to a beautiful Asian girl; Christina. I was on the floor, moaning in pain from my anguish, sobbing uncontrollably. I stood up, still bawling & I started yelling “Wake up, Ev’Yan! Wake up! I can’t do this anymore! I’m in too much pain. Please, wake up.” It was in that moment that I opened my eyes, startled by my own pleas to get up. It took me a moment to realize where I was; I was so disoriented. But immediately, I looked to my left to see Lover sound asleep & I clutched onto him & didn’t let go.

He consoled me, holding me, kissing me as I told him that I had had a horrible nightmare. I didn’t go into details — we were both half asleep — but I mentioned Japan & he said, “Babe, we’re not in Japan… I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” His voice is so soothing to me & his arms are so strong. I started to weep a little, the dream still pounding in my head. I closed my eyes & breathed him in, so fucking grateful that it was just a useless nightmare & that Lover still loved me very much.

I really did try to go back to sleep, but I was crying & scared & knew that the only way I could go back (which would be pointless, seeing now that it’s 7:00 am) was if I wrote it down. Release the demons onto paper, as I always say. So here I sit. I’m reflecting this nightmare now & that is what is feels like: a nightmare. Not real, not happening, just my imagination telling me a horrific & graphic story. Even as I was writing it, the nightmare went from being this actual highlight in my life as though it really did happen, to being just a dream… a good story to tell, if only it were mine. It’s funny how it transformed because by the second paragraph, I was still trying to convince myself that it wasn’t real. It’s also funny how I get so tangled into these visions in my head. I understand, though, because I felt everything in that dream. I was anxious & depression, I was longing & pathetic, I was begging & crying, I was enraged & hurt. Even as I woke up, my body felt heavy from these feelings…

Never have I ever had a good dream that was in such detail as this nightmare. Usually, my nightmares are more vivid than my happy dreams. I don’t know why that is. Maybe it’s because I am living my good dream by being married to such a wonderful man & having this beautiful life filled with love & appreciation. & because my dream is now, my nightmares are there to remind me of my dreams. That must be it. If not, then I have a terribly twisted mind.

I going to crawl back into bed now & get warm.