Alright, so, I don't usually do this, but I have no one else to tell this to. I had a horrible dream last night, and I hope by posting it on here, I won't ever have it again. This dream is probably one of the most sick, sad, and horrible dreams I've ever experienced. I've had a lot of dreams since Alex has died, but they started to fade once it hit november.  Well, last night, I went to bed realllly early, like 9:30 or so. Yesterday was the 28th, Alex's 5 month.

So, before I get started, I just want to bring up a few things that are on my mind.
What is a dream?
Why do we have them?
How are they relevant to our everyday lives?
Why can't we choose our dreams?

They seem like an opening to a different world that humans have not yet figured out how to experience. I wish we could choose our dreams. I wish I knew how to control every little aspect of all my dreams. I wish that there was no such thing as a nightmare. I just wish there was no death. but since there is, and many more questions come up while thinking about that subject, I'm just going to start telling you about my dream.



Alright, so, my dream begins with me in my room, sitting on my bed. Then someone knocked on the door, and in walks Alex. I started crying and hugging him, asking him why he left me and stuff. We both just sat on the bed, he was comforting me and stuff. I couldn't let go of him. He was there, and I wanted him to stay. For the first couple hours we were just hangin out and being together. He even pulled out my digital camera so we could have some pictures together. I started to giggle, because in every picture, he would miss his face. So, he gave the camera to me, so I could take the pictures. I took a lot of pictures. I remember being kind of nervous, cause I felt like he thought I was trying to take pictures to prove that he was there, that he was real. He didn't really seem to think anything like that though, I guess I was just being paranoid.

Anyway, later that night, he turned to me and smiled. I wasn't sure what he was thinking, so I asked him why he smiled. He simply replied with "I think I'm falling in love with you again". Now, obviously, that statement is going to make me cry, so I did. I cried. He started comforting me again. My mom must've heard me making noise, she called into my room and asked me who I was talking to. I got really quiet and just told her I was on the phone.

A couple hours later, he told me he had to go, that he needed to. I told him to be quiet since my mom was in the room next door. He tiptoed down the stairs and walked out the door. I watched him walk down the street. It was foggy, so I couldn't see him get very far. It was almost like he disappeared. I went back to sleep.

The next morning, I walked into my mom's room. A couple of my friends were in there, too. I didn't know why they were there, but I knew it was bad. My mom looked at me and said, "Manda, have you heard about Alex?" I became kind of scared, baffled. I wasn't sure if she had known he was here or not. I got real tense. So I asked her what happened. She told me someone had dug Alex up the night before. They had stolen him, then returned him later that night. I burst into tears automatically. I didn't know what to think. I was so confused by what had happened. I started to feel guilty, like I had something to do with it. I knew he had visited me last night, but was it fake? Was I dreaming? No, I couldn't have been dreaming..I had pictures to prove it. My mom pointed at my feet. I looked down and saw mud. What the hell? I ran into my bedroom. There was mud on the floor, on the bed.


I started to scream. I screamed at my mom, telling her that he had been with me last night. I told her that he was there, alive, and talking. He was breathing. He wasn't dead, he was there. She didn't believe me. I knew she wouldn't. I pulled out the pictures. I shoved the camera in her face and watched her face carefully.

The terror in her eyes started to show. It WAS unbelievable that someone who had once died had come to life again. But then she showed me the camera. She showed me those pictures I had taken not even 8 hours ago. When I looked at the pictures, I got scared. My heart started to pound, my breathing got short.

The pictures..they weren't the same. Alex was dead. He was dead in the pictures. His eyes were rolled back. His mouth was open. His head was cocked. His skin was pale. He was starting to rot. By this time in my dream I was purely freaked out. I started to hyperventilate. What the hell had I done? Did I even do anything? Was any of last night real? I'm not crazy, I didn't dig him up. He came to MY house. I just didn't know what to think. My dream ended with one of the pictures I had taken of me and Alex. Not one of the pictures I had taken towards the beginning of the dream. No, one of the pictures I had seen later, a picture of Alex dead. It was a picture of me kissing Alex dead.




This has to be one of the worst dreams I've ever had in my entire life. It's bad enough that Alex is dead. It's bad enough that I've had nightmares before about Alex dying. It's bad enough that you had to READ this. But, can you imagine SEEING this? Can you imagine waking up and seeing these pictures run through your mind? Every time I look at a picture of Alex, I invision the ones in my dream, dead. I see him pale and rotting, sagging, with his mouth open. I see these pictures so clearly that I could draw them for you. I've NEVER experienced something so horrible in my entire life.

When I woke up, I was afraid to close my eyes again. I didn't want to see him like that again. Nobody wants to see their bestfriend/ ex boyfriend DEAD. Going to his wake and funeral was hard, because I HAVE seen him dead. I've seen him fucking dead. But I've never seen him dead like THAT. I hope I never have a dream like that ever again. I'm going to remember this dream for the rest of my life. I think those pictures of him are enough to make someone go crazy.




Which brings me back to my beginning statements.

Why do people dream?
Why do they dream about messed up, saddening things?
Why can't we choose them? I would never choose a dream like that.
What is their relevance to our everyday lives?
Is it an opening to a different world that humans have not yet figured out how to experience?


I'm extremely confused about dreams and why we even have them. Some days we don't have them. So why are they there? Is there a purpose to them? I want to know about these so-called dreams and why we have to undergo the horror that they bring some people.


Alex. You're missed, and...I just wish you could come back.