More real than I can tell

Sometimes I wake up from my dreams and they feel so real.  I dream lot, I always have, it was something I had to learn in my early years in order to keep my mind focused and stop it from rambling, something that became my best coping mechanism. I dream when I’m sleeping or even when I’m awake, it’s the place I go when I need to settle down and where I run to when I’m overloaded with excitement. My mind has become both my worst enemy and my best friend, as it keeps pushing me down with fears but provides me the plots that make me still believe.

I’m mostly comfortable when I’m dreaming as I learned to control where I allow my mind to travel, but every once in a while it runs wild and takes me by surprise. Every now and then I get these dreams that feel so real that I can feel all the emotions taking over me even after I wake up. They’re never the same, it can be something as simple as tight hug or a huge fight, and it’s hard to explain because I know it’s not real but I swear I can feel those arms around my shoulders, holding me as they soothe me and take my pain, just like I feel my temperature raising and my mood changing by the imaginary arguments. That split of second carries with me for a bit, while I try to decide whether I like the felling of it or not, while I decided whether is crazy to be reassured by an imaginary friend or normal that my aversion to confrontation makes me feel sick to my stomach just to dream about it. And even though the experiences are not real, the feelings are and it’s bizarre, the dichotomy as it feels good and so bad at the same time… and I don’t even begin to try to make sense of it, to figure if it’s just no-sense or if there’s a deeper meaning for all of it but in a way they make me feel so alive. All the passion, the anger, the needs and frustrations, all of it at its purest form, with no filters nor restrains.