I had been meaning to write this for a long time. Some people have probably seen the earlier pieces already. Honestly, I didn’t really want to post this one. Not everyone wants to read something this heavy. But I’m putting it down anyway.
The first dream happened a long time ago, maybe around two years back.
In it, there was me and a man I called “older brother.” We were living somewhere in the mountains. One day, someone came up the mountain looking for me. It seemed like they told me something, though I can’t remember what it was. I only remember answering, “Okay.” At that moment, I seemed deeply sad.
After that, I stood alone, quietly looking out at the distant peaks.
Then somehow I made my way to one of those mountains. I stood on the summit and looked down. I think I smiled, though I have no idea why. And then I jumped.
Afterward, I knew I was dead, because “I” was standing there beside my own body, watching it. I could hear someone speaking right next to my ear.
“It’s all over.”
That was the first time I ever saw, clearly and completely, how I died in a dream.
The second one was probably about half a year ago.
I barely remember what came before it. I only remember the end: someone shot me.
At the instant the bullet hit, I felt heat—an intense, burning sensation. Then little by little, that warmth turned cold. I watched blood spill from my chest and slowly begin to clot. Strangely, in that moment, my emotions started to settle. I became calm.
I fell to the ground with my eyes still open and watched people on the side of the road pass by me at an unhurried pace, chatting and laughing like nothing had happened. I reached out, trying to grab them, but all I got back were complicated looks.
Then I think I smiled again.
And after that, everything went black.
I don’t know what these dreams are supposed to mean. Maybe they mean nothing at all. Maybe they’re just the mind refusing to stay still.
The last one was from last night.
Actually, it doesn’t even feel accurate to call it a dream. It was more like a sensation.
A lot of people have probably had that kind of moment in real life: a sudden, strange familiarity, as if you’ve already lived through what is happening. You arrive somewhere by chance and the scene feels familiar, like you’ve been there before—or maybe like you saw it in a dream—even though, if you really think about it, you know you’ve never been there.
That feeling was what this was like.
In the dream, I was at work in the company, asleep, and someone woke me because it was time to start working again. I rubbed my eyes, and for some reason there were still traces of tears in them. I realized I must have just been dreaming, but I couldn’t remember what I had dreamed.
Later, I fell in love with a girl.
Then a very long stretch of time passed, from when we first met to when we became a couple. After that came another long stretch of time, from being together to eventually standing at our wedding.
And then, at the exact moment I slipped the ring onto her finger, she disappeared.
Everyone around us disappeared too.
Only I was left there alone, holding the ring in my hand.
“I” cried—completely, thoroughly, as if there were nothing left to hold back.
And then I woke up.
Someone was waking me.
Yes, that dream kept looping.
I have no idea how many times I went through it, how many times I was awakened by that person. And after enough repetitions, I chose to slit my wrists.
The pain felt unbelievably real. It had color, sound, wind, temperature, blood.
And all through it, I knew one more thing: while I was inside the dream, I could always see the “me” in it smiling.
Smiling so happily.