I have five nightmares. I don't mean bad dreams - no, I mean things that I would consider a nightmare, a living one, were they to happen to me. I also am faced with a conundrum right now, because I can only remember what four of them are. But I know that I have, indeed, five. Maybe I'll remember what the missing one is along the way. Three of these nightmares involve death, which is something that will surprise no one. I think we all ponder death, at one point or another, and though I've become much more comfortable with my own mortality this past decade or so, there are still some aspects about death and dying that I desperately dread.
So I'll list my nightmares, the four I can remember, at least. Only the first is in its proper order, the others can be debated where they fall on the list and may be somewhat interchangeable. I do wonder what the missing one is, though.
Ok, this is a nightmare I had even before my son was born. I might have written about this before, but I always had the desire to have a family. It was in 1997 that that particular urge started to swell in me. I guess me and Dora might have had some conversations about it at the time, but it wouldn't be until after her parents passed away in 1998 that the timing began to be right. But I briefly worked with a guy that was a huge Joy Division fan - a band I love, but which, by that time, I hadn't listened to in years. Much of what I listened to in the 90's was metal, and I rarely strayed from that. Though I would sometimes revisit some stuff from the 80's, it was a rare occurrence. But this guy got me hyped about Joy Division again, we'd talk about the band and their troubled lead singer - Ian Curtis. This got me so hyped that later that year I'd buy the 'Heart and Soul' boxset. There was one particular conversation I had with this guy, though, that left something inside me. He'd told me that he had read somewhere that when Ian's child was born, he sometimes would feel too afraid to hold her, lest he drop her on the floor. And I've always known I was clumsy, if I had a child would I be likely to drop the baby on the floor? Thoughts like these percolated in my mind for another couple of years until my son Ian was born, and these thoughts coalesced into a nightmare. That of him dying as an infant. Scratch that, that of him dying. And yeah, I guess when he was a baby that frightened the living hell out of me, but to this day I find myself praying that I never get a call telling me that something happened to him. So - my son, anything happening to him, that's number one.
Two and three are also about death. One of them must be related to some past life trauma I harbor to this day, and is one of the reasons why I am not overly interested in travelling and also why I am not a big beach guy at all. I tend to stay away from large bodies of water altogether. So that nightmare is dying a horrible, slow death - especially something like being eaten alive. I loathe sharks with all my heart, and I am very sure that in some past life I ended up as a snack to them. Now, I love cats, but not to the point of being eaten by some big cat. No, there will never be safaris for me, nor shall I ever go to those exotic places who are incredibly beautiful but are located in shark infested waters. Nah, I'm good.
Another nightmare regarding death is one that is very, very real, and - unfortunately - more likely. We are all of us just one bad day away from completely breaking down, right? None of us is exempt from losing everything we have, from being left behind by everyone. All it takes is that one bad day. And I am dreadfully afraid of screwing up my life so bad that I not only end up in the streets, but end up dying completely alone. Anonymous. With people I know passing me by and not even recognizing me. It's something that has been on my mind for decades now, ever since I was a child. I'm not sure whether or not I told this story, but as a kid my mother used to buy groceries for a family that lived in a cardboard 'house' near where she worked, and I always felt that fear inside me, cold and slithering, that there but by the grace of god could well be me.
The fourth nightmare would probably rank second on my list. Sometimes, and depending how low I am feeling, it could actually be number one. This is a nightmare that I guess I sort of always knew I had - it's something I think I already felt as a child, though I could not yet fathom how it could apply to my life. I started feeling it very early after me and Dora - my son's mother - split up. There was something that grew deeper into my core, a feeling of unease that I sensed whenever I was with someone, that made me realize I was wasting everyone's time by keeping up a façade. Then, as time went on, and as people came and went, I started to feel this more and more. After Silvia, I already knew, but deluded myself into thinking I didn't. After Sofia, that feeling started to seep in my core even further. And one of the very many reasons why no relationship worked out after was because I began being more and more honest with myself when it came to the fact that I could never content myself with someone. By this I mean that I could never settle down with someone, or even be with someone, just because I deemed that that should be my fate, that it was either that or wallow in nothingness. I can't do that. Some people do, and hey - whatever works for them. I couldn't spend a lifetime of pretend love. I did years of that with Dora when we were younger, and that was enough. I could never be with someone I don't love, even though sometimes I might love their company, of I might love things we do together. But that's not enough for me. It's never enough. And one of the reasons why I walked away from all of this is that I do not want to waste anyone's time ever again. Being with people because it's better than being alone is a pretty piss-poor reason to be with them. I will not suffer it, nor have anyone suffer through it. I won't.
But... but I would be lying if I didn't admit that I have felt that temptation in the past. That I could opt for what would be the unhappy way out. It wouldn't be easy, it would mostly be not good for however long it lasted. This I know, because in the past decade - and especially up to 2018 - I tried far too many times, and felt that way very often. Was that why I always felt like I planted the seeds for the demise of whatever I had going on with someone? Maybe. I do know that none of these people that wandered in and out of my life were people that gave me the feeling that things were going to last. Yeah, sometimes the sex was good, sometimes the other stuff was good, but nothing was all good, no one was all... all good. Only before. Only once. And knowing this, knowing all this, keeps me from wanting to be with someone else. No one deserves that. No one deserves not even the bare minimum, less than that. Most souls aren't like mine - I don't need much, but I do need a little bit. Most others need far too much. And they deserve nothing less. Wasting whatever years I have ahead of me content with only a small measure of what I once knew so intimately? That is a true nightmare, one I will ever avoid.
And what the hell was that fifth nightmare?
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