Music of the night

I had a dream about you last night.

You died. You asked if we could bury you alive. We did. And by "we" I mean the entire family. We buried you in a giant box like the ones you put dress shirts in to give presents. We buried you in the box with your husband and placed you in the ground. It was shallow.

I cried. I sobbed. I wailed. I was so distraught. Mostly, I was distraught because I felt like I wasn't fair to you. I felt like I hadn't done anything right towards you and I spent so many years loathing you that it was hurtful and wrong. Another member of the family felt the same. But I told her she was fake. I constantly screamed at her. I told her how she was just too different because she was too fake.

Later in the dream I confided in different people and told them all my feelings. They told me I should make amends. My apology was digging you up and asking you why you wanted to be buried. You were still alive and you sat up in your small little box. You told me you wanted to die because you didn't want to grow old. It's awful and you're tired of it. I handed you a doughnut and you laid back down. I reburied you and the smell of the doughnut was awful.

I woke up tired and drained with mixed feelings. You're a member of my family that I do not understand. You pick favorites and I'm never it. I stopped trying to be. I just wanted to be accepted and you've never given me that. You've caused so much drama for my family and myself. I'm confused. I don't know how my subconscious feels that I've done you so wrong when you've barely done right for me.