The fox

Lately I have not dreamt of my husband.

I had come to assume it was actually a natural defence mechanism. My body had come to recognize how unstable I’ve been emotionally, and my brain was actively suppressing the image of my husband from my dreams.

But not last night.

Last night my husband was the only thing I dreamed about.

First I dreamed that I was running down a dark street. I could see him in the distance and I was trying desperately to reach him. But every time I moved closer, he moved further away.

I was screaming out his name, and sobbing, and begging for him to stop. But it was like he couldn’t hear me.

Eventually he disappeared inside a building. I followed him through the big glass doors and instinctively caught the elevator to the top floor. But all the doors on the floor were locked and the lights were switched off.

I hopped back into the elevator and pushed the button that would take me back to the ground floor. When I arrived and the doors slid open, I was surprised to see my husband standing in the lobby waiting for me.

I was overcome with happiness and I ran to him. But before I could put my arms around him, he reached out and put his hands around my throat. I started panicking and trying to pry his fingers away, and when I looked into his face all I saw was hatred.

I woke up sobbing,  alone in our bed, at 3am. I was scared and devastated.

When I finally found a way to fall back asleep I realised I was once again on that same dark road. And sure enough my husband was up ahead.

Once again I started running after him, trying to reach him,  but he kept zig zagging around corners. I panicked every time I lost sight of him.

This time, instead of going into the office block he brought me to the clearing in a forest.

The sun was up, and the forest was not frightening. I felt safe there.

I caught sight of my husband leaning up against a silver car, parked near the dense treescape. This time when I approached him, he smiled at me.

“I love you.” I said. “Don’t ever leave me again.”

But just as I leaned over to kiss my husband,  his body suddenly transformed into that of a small white fox. I screamed and the fox scampered off into the forest. Suddenly I was all alone.

I woke up only moments later, but the desolation has remained with me all day.

How unfortunate, how pathetic. Now even in my dreams my husband doesn’t love me.

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6 thoughts on “The fox

  1. You are NOT pathetic. You are hurting, and it’s so normal for that to find it’s way into your dreams. Remember that this is just your grief talking. Keep writing, like bleeding from a wound to flush out infection.

  2. NOT PATHETIC. NOT PATHETIC NOT PATHETIC NOT PATHETIC. When my high school sweet heart and I broke up in our last year of college and slept on a mattress in my living room (I couldn’t handle sleeping in my bed), feel asleep to Gilmore girls every night because it was the only way I COULD fall asleep (it left no time to be alone with my thoughts, and lived on yogurt and carnation instant breakfast FOR A MONTH. I lost something like 15 pounds. Over a fiance-NOT husband. You have to do what you can to survive and get this out sweetheart. Be kind to yourself. Cut yourself some slack. YOU ARE GOING TO BE OKAY. You’re going to make it.

  3. Oh hun… My minds have interesting ways of expressing feelings and emotions, especially when we are sleeping. Try not to read too much into it. The very fact that you feel your husband doesn’t love you, whether real or not, is what is going to come through in your dreams, as that is what you are thinking. I wish I have more encouraging words of wisdom for you. Thinking of you.

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