I Had a Dream and It Was Not Kinky

I am lost in my own confusion.

I have been battling with this confusion for way to long.

I have not let go, and I know it is time.

Letting go of what you no longer have is not as easy as one would think. I hold on to what could of been but probably never would of been. It is easy to pretend. It is easy to see what you want when you close your eyes, but when your eyes are closed you miss what is right in front of you.

I had a dream, it was very reveling for me

I dreamt about a dog that Daryl and I had. After his death the girls and I had to move into an apartment, and we could not take Kezza with us. I had to take him to a shelter...it was the second saddest day with in that  year.

My dream started off with meeting the people who had adopted him, they did not want him anymore. (Before Daryl had him he had two previous homes)  I was sad, than happy, I could have him back, he was mine again. I took him home, I loved him, and I held on to him, I watched him with careful eyes. I was happy, joyous to have my sweet dog back ....(questioning in the back of my mind how is he still alive after all these years. He would of been 16 years old, he was a big dog and big dogs do not live that long. It was not possible). 

But along the way I forgot what I had, I forgot Izzy.

At one point as looking out the window at my long lost dog, happy; I realized that I was missing Izzy. I became sad, and frantically look all over the place for her. Opening every door in a house with many doors, calling out her name but she was not to be found, she was lost. I forgot her for way to long to find her. Though I heard her, I heard her through ever door I opened...but she was not there, not hidden under any bed, or stuck back in a corner. And when I looked out the window to see my sweet Keeza He was no longer there, he was gone as well.

He was never there, a figment of my imagination. My hopes for what was but could never be.

I lost what I had because I hung on to what I once had.

What a metaphor to have to open my eyes to the truth of the whys.

I am now truly realizing no one can live up to a ghost, even if the ghost was not perfect when alive. One can make a ghost anything they desire but one can not make a ghost come back to life.

I have flash backs every now and then of the day he died. It was a very traumatic event in my life, and the sad part is by reliving it over and over again it gives me false comfort. I punish myself, so I can feel him again. Yet it hurts to relive the same hopeless scene, just to feel as if he still alive.  

Now I am ready to let him go, now I need to forgive myself for what I could not control.