I'm struggling with a nightmare I had in the month of September, 2012.
In the month of September 2012, one of my dearest friends passed away.
It was expected unexpectedly. She always told me she never saw herself living past 21. Well, she made it. By a week. It was her heart. It was too big. They replaced it, but the original is always better.
I had a recurring nightmare after her death. It was just us, her and me, in a stark white place, so much like a hospital where she spent so much time. But there was red. And there was blood on my chest. It was not mine. It was her’s. It was spilling from the scar that began at her chest and extended below her belly button. I snapped my hands out to her chest, pressing, trying to make the flow stop. My hands were not big enough to cover all of her scar. I could not stop the blood or the pain. I was trying to take her blood. I was trying to take her pain. But she was dying. And as the blood leaked from her body, as did the blue in her eyes, soon to be nothing but white irises with black holes that no longer refracted light.
She reached at my chest, scarless and dimpled. Desparate, her shaking hands spread her blood over my chest. Sapphires to pearls, her eyes were no longer her’s. A phantom of her soul rose above her body. Screaming, it passed through my chest. I gasped and stumbled to my knees which landed on the ground with a loud crack. I looked at my hands, and they had turned red. My chest was bare though, with no more blood.
Just a scar that extended from my cleavage to below my belly button.
I find myself remembering this dream tonight. I find myself trapped in it's meaning. I wanted to help her, but this was something I could not help her with. And I feel guilty. Possibly, the most guilty I will ever feel in my lifetime. And I find myself...still not able to let this go.
Could I have ever saved my friend from this terrible situation? No.
Should I feel guilty for not being able to take her place? No.
Here is the secret, folks. When it comes to emotions, from the deepest seeded sorrows to the highest ecstasy you could ever imagine, logic contributes nothing.