I Can't Close My Eyes...

I can't take it. I just can't.

I sit here, huddled in a ball, on the couch, typing on the laptop, but it's still not enough.

I woke up at 8:30 this morning. I should have stayed awake. I knew I should have stayed awake. But the bed called to me. Big Ed was so cute sleeping there, I decided to join him. Little did I know, that it wasn't the bed calling my name. It was him. That evil one that enters my mind.

I...

I had been asleep for a good little bit. I had rejoined the ending of a previous dream from a long time ago. I made new friends and we traveled off to another place. We were a group of sisterly acrobatic women, not exactly serving God, but we did have our purpose. We visited our male counterpart only to find corruption and greed and evil and we helped solve a few cases of missing artifacts of immense power. There the dreaming should have ended. I should have moved on to fluffy green meadows with ponies (isn't that what every girl should dream about?).

But I didn't. One of the guys I had fought was him. He wasn't dead. He wasn't thinking like the guy in the dream, either. He just took the guy's form.

I'm sitting here, curled in a ball, in the corner of my huge couch, in the sun. It's not enough. I'm shaking. I can't close my eyes. I bolted out of bed this morning. I...I can't stand it. I hate it. I hate him for following me, even after I wake. I can still see him. He smelled like campfire smoke. Like grill smoke. Like burning charcoal. I like that smell. Or, I used to.

Ever have those dreams where you can't move? You can't scream? Every time you try to make a noise, you get nothing? Yea.

He had me pinned down. I could feel every muscle as he lay atop me. He kept telling me to open my mouth and let him "penetrate [me] completely". My throat hurt from trying to scream with my mouth closed. I couldn't turn my head. I couldn't push him off of me. I knew it was a dream. He was there, but he wasn't. It was all in my head, but I couldn't make it go away. I could feel every muscle under his skin, but his skin was shifting colors from white to pitch black, but there was no light. He should have been all in shadow, but he wasn't. He became an unreal creature, with human-esque form. His tongue became a small penis, pushing at my mouth. His muscles began to bulge and bubble - there were proportionate penis heads under his skin, moving as the muscles moved.

And it sounds silly right now, after I'm awake, as I sit in the sunlight, trying to still my shaking. I almost want to laugh. But I can't. Because I couldn't move. I couldn't get him off of me....

I want to be curled up in a ball in the sunlight, but I still feel vulnerable. I can't close my eyes. I don't want to feel trapped again. I don't want to smell campfire smoke again. I...I don't want to see him again.

And I fought. I couldn't move, but I fought. It was only a dream, right? I knew it was only a dream, so I fought. I knew Big Ed was lying barely a foot away from me, I knew he was right next to me, so I fought. It took forever. An eternity of him riding me, trying to shove his tongue down my throat, while I tried so hard to push him off with limp arms and legs, and tried to scream with numbed vocal cords. The effort made it so I couldn't breathe, but I refused to open my mouth - I would not let him in.

I think I had been breathing hard and making noises before I even awoke. When I could finally open my eyes, I had managed to push all of the blanket off my arms and chest. Big Ed, still half awake himself, was trying to shush me, telling me I was alright. I curled up to him until the heaving breathing stopped, but I couldn't stay there. Not in that bed. So as soon as he was asleep, mostly, again, I bolted.

I keep telling myself, If I had only stayed awake at 8:30am...If I had only gotten dressed then..., but what good would it have done? He would still be there, just on a different night. Possibly a night that Big Ed wasn't home. He might still return on such a night. In some form or another, he has been there before. I don't think he will ever leave me. And that is why I am sitting here, on the couch, curled in a ball, huddled in the corner of my huge couch, stealing the only sun spot from the cats. And yet, I still find no comfort.

My "good morning" response to the roommate, is hollow and automatic. It is not a good morning for me. I hope your morning is better.