So about a week ago, I smoked the last of it. The first few days were cloudy as hell. Blurry edged thought continued well passed the last joint. It took those first few days to properly stop feeling the effects of the green.
Then after about mid week the real consequence of stopping began: the dreams.
I'm not sure what it is, maybe it's a case of not remembering or maybe it's a case of not having, but when I smoke green, I almost never dream. Since stopping, oh my lawd, the dreams, the fucking dreams. Good goddamn, they are incessant. And so fucking real.
I can't really write about all of them because they are impossible to put into words. What I do know is that in a few of them, she has appeared, haunting and taunting me even in my unconscious dream state. At times we are friends, at other times we are lovers, and none of what has happened in reality has existed in the dreams. Those have been the good / bad dreams. Good while asleep, comforting and familiar, bad when I awake, and remember all that I once had and have since lost.
Other dreams have been far more bizarre, football in a war zone, holidays in the mountains with what can only be described as country folk, you know, the banjo playing kind with fairly poor dental hygiene. Then there is the final category, the one with women. Not only sexual, of which there have been a few, but strangely most of the dreams with women have been about first contact. The thrill of accidental touch, the excitement of a meaningful smile and the simple joy of mutual liking.
And then I wake up.
The strange thing is that I am not interested in having sex. The very thought of being intimate with another person other than my ex sends shivers down my spine. I don't have the foggiest clue on how to open up and let someone else in again. What I do miss, however, is the companionship. The easy going nature of someone who you share thoughts and feelings with. And of course, the warmth of another body in the same bed at night. An empty bed in winter is an awful thing. These dreams have cut right to the centre of self denied truths about self.
I am quite possibly one of the loneliest motherfuckers out there, and I am afraid I do not have the social skill set or the right mental state to not be. At least not yet. I have so much healing to do before I can truly let anyone in again.
And that sucks, because now that it is getting cold, that cold and empty bed is a very sad thing. A very sad thing indeed.
To conclude, this weeks soundtrack has been brought to you by Slowdive, nice jangly music to accompany the coming of winter.
