I had a dream a couple nights ago. It was strange in just how vivid and memorable it was, as I rarely have dreams I remember for very long, or that strike me so powerfully as this one did. But it hit me so hard, I’ve been a little bit obsessed with the whole thing since…
I was essentially just here, on tumblr, when I came across a post by a girl I know. She wasn’t quite a friend, but rather an aquaintance I’d gotten close enough to know a few things about, but otherwise was to shy and awkward to become real friends. Obviously she was one of my buddy Zane’s friends, because all the awesome people I only kind of know, I generally meet through Zane.
Her post states that her hair has almost grown back to the length she wanted it. Somehow I knew the backstory for this already. She always used to have her hair so that it was long, and hung down in front of her eyes, but when she broke up with her boyfriend, she cut it. Recently she’d been trying to grow it back out because she really wanted it to be like it used to be. I smiled to myself at her post, that it was almost there.
Then there’s another post. She’s worried that, even when it gets long enough, she won’t be satisfied with it, even if she does manage to grow it out all the way like she wanted so badly. I’m confused for a second.
Next I see what is apparently her fursona, checking the length of her not quite long enough hair. And then next, I see her again, her hair is incredibly long, more than enough to cover her face like she had wanted, but instead she’s just clutching herself in tears, and I finally get it. She had cut her hair when she broke up, the hair is a representation of those feelings. She wants things to be like they had been. Not just her hair. Suddenly I’m crying.
And then I wake up. It takes me a while to process that this girl, as much as I knew her in the dream… isn’t somebody I know. As far as I know the scenario isn’t really even real… And yet I still felt utterly destroyed by this, emotionally wrecked for a short while. It certainly helped to remind me how alone I am. And how alone some other people are.
I’m no longer in shambles over the whole thing. Drawing what I could remember of her helped a lot. And yet, I still can’t get the whole thing out of my head. Some part of me still thinks that, in some regards this girl is real. And I feel for her.
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