The Dream That Won’t Let Go

Feb 12, 2025. I woke up today feeling like I had just escaped something I wasn’t meant to survive. A dream—no, a nightmare—so vivid, so real, that even now, hours later, I can’t shake it. It lingers in my mind like a shadow, a presence I can’t ignore.

I lay in bed for nearly two hours after waking up, staring at the ceiling, my heart still racing, my body still frozen in the aftershock of what I had just experienced. The dream wasn’t just a dream—it felt like a message, a warning, or maybe something worse.

That’s why I’m writing this. Maybe if I put it into words, I’ll finally understand what it meant.

The Dark Room

It started in darkness. A deep, endless blackness that swallowed everything. But as my eyes adjusted, I realized—I wasn’t just anywhere. I was in my room.

Or at least, some version of it.

The walls were familiar, but they stretched into nothingness. The corners of the room faded into the dark, as if they didn’t really exist. There were no doors. No windows. No way out.

My belongings were scattered around, but they didn’t feel like mine. They felt empty. Hollow. Like props in a play, placed there to trick me into believing this was real. But I knew better. Something was wrong.

And then, I saw him.

A figure stepped forward from the shadows, and my breath caught in my throat. It was me.

The Other Me

A perfect copy. Same face. Same posture. Same eyes, staring back at me. But there was something in those eyes—something cold, detached. Like he wasn’t just a reflection. Like he knew something I didn’t.

He moved when I moved, mimicking me at first. But then, he stopped. He tilted his head slightly, studying me. And that’s when I realized—he wasn’t just copying me.

He was waiting.

Then, he spoke.

His voice was calm, too calm, like he had rehearsed this conversation a thousand times before.

"You always run."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut.

"You run from your problems. You run from responsibility. You run from yourself."

I wanted to deny it. To tell him he was wrong. But I couldn’t.

Because deep down, I knew he wasn’t.

The Confrontation

He started listing my mistakes. Not just random regrets—but everything. Every choice I had made, every opportunity I had wasted, every time I had let fear decide for me.

"You could have done better."

"You should have tried harder."

"You always say 'next time'—but you never mean it."

His words were like knives, cutting deeper with every sentence. And what scared me the most was that he wasn’t angry. He wasn’t yelling, he wasn’t accusing me with rage. He was just… stating facts. As if this was the truth, and I was the one who refused to see it.

I wanted to argue, to defend myself, but my mouth wouldn’t move. I was frozen. Helpless.

And I don’t know how long it lasted. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. Time didn’t feel real in that place.

The only thing that felt real was the weight of his words.

The Escape

At some point, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to get out.

I turned and ran. I don’t even know where I was going—there were no doors, no exits—but somehow, I found myself outside.

Or at least… what should have been outside.

But it wasn’t the world I knew.

It was nothing.

A vast, empty space stretching out forever. No buildings. No sky. No color. Just an infinite void that swallowed everything. I kept walking, hoping to find something, anything—but there was nothing.

Not a single sound. Not a single person.

And that’s when the panic set in.

The Loneliness

I had never felt so alone.

It wasn’t just emptiness—it was absence. Like the entire world had been erased, leaving only me.

I searched desperately, my footsteps echoing in the silence, hoping to find someone, some sign of life. But the further I went, the more I realized… I was completely alone.

And that’s when the thought hit me.

Maybe this was what I had been running toward all along.

Maybe, by running from everything in my life, I had been running straight into this—a place where nothing existed, where no one could reach me, where I couldn’t disappoint anyone… because there was no one left to disappoint.

Was this what I wanted?

Was this what I deserved?

Back to the Room

And then—just as suddenly as I had left—I was back in my room.

Back where it started.

The other me was still there, watching me. Waiting.

This time, I didn’t run. I wanted to ask him something—wanted to understand what all of this meant.

But before I could speak, he said one last thing.

"Do it right this time."

And then, I closed my eyes.

I don’t know why. Maybe I was trying to escape. Maybe I was finally ready to face whatever came next.

But the moment my eyes shut, the world disappeared.

The Fall

When I opened them again, I wasn’t in the room anymore.

I was falling.

The sky stretched endlessly around me, the wind roaring in my ears. My body was weightless, plummeting toward the ground at terrifying speed.

But I wasn’t afraid.

Not at first.

Then the ground started rushing toward me. Too fast.

I tried to scream, but no sound came.

And then—impact.

And then—I woke up.

The Aftermath

Drenched in sweat. Heart pounding. Gasping for air.

But even after realizing I was awake, I couldn’t move. I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to convince myself it was over.

But it wasn’t.

Because even now, hours later, it still lingers. The words. The feeling. That overwhelming sense that the dream wasn’t just a dream. That it meant something.

"Do it right this time."

I keep hearing it.

And maybe… maybe he was right.

I’ve spent my life running. Running from my problems, from my past, from everything that felt too hard. Pretending my mistakes don’t matter instead of facing them.

But I don’t know how to stop.

I don’t even know where to start.

All I know is that this dream—this nightmare—wasn’t just a random creation of my mind. It was something I needed to see. Something I needed to hear.