A Dream

This morning I woke up crying.

And not just the tears-rolling-down-cheeks kind. It was the body-shaking-out-of-breath-oh-my-gad-what's-happening crying. No shit.

Pretty understandable. My dream was too fucked up and horrible that I thought it was real. And actually, I can still remember what the hell happened. With vivid detail. TOO much detail.

Yes, I had a dream about my parents.

No, I haven't been thinking of them for a while now, on the contrary. I mean, sure, we chat and stuff, but nothing quite serious or interacting. In my dream, I just... I lost it.

I don't really want to go in detail about it right now. Actually, it's only been a few minutes since that horrid display of subconscious, childish need for acceptance and affection. And... I haven't gotten over it yet. I'm stopping the tears quite well, though. One acquires this skill after much training.

So, here's to my mom who yelled at me during my first period and never understood the way I was, and here's to my dad who always believed in me.

Damn, the tears again.

And oh yeah. Before I woke up, I was in my father's arms. 

Good morning.