The Bittersweet End of Dreams

There are two sides to everything. A rose carries beauty, but its thorns bleed with revenge. A coin promises wealth, but with a toss in the air, the world comes crashing down. The road is our journey, but we burn rubber, speed demons gone wild. Our heart is the secret to our lair, but our minds are the darkness to our soul.

Dexter always talked about his "dark passenger." Mine waited for me in sleep. Nightmares used to torment me, bring me to the edge of that darkness, and for awhile there, I was gone. My passenger held me down, suffocating me with despair, and sucking all the life that I struggled to have, and I lost days, months, years. I was a stranger painting the mirror, and the world fell back. That was a long time ago.

I'm not sure why, but my passenger returned. He left his bags still packed by the bedroom door. His felt hat was held gently in one hand. His black eyes were of midnight, and his porcelain skin was like a sliver of moonlight. His lips were pressed together, angry that I defeated him, but here he was. And he took his place right beside me.

"So," he began. "How are things? How's life?" I slowly sat up in bed, drawing the covers to my chin. "Don't worry." He patted my leg, sending a chill right up my spine. "No nightmares tonight."

"What do you want?" My voice was a whisper, barely audible, but he heard it loud and clear.

"I just wanted to say hi." He laughed loudly like he had heard the best joke in the world. "I missed you." His smile vanished in a blink. "Did you miss me?"

"What do you think?" I don't know why I was afraid, but I was. I was waiting for the walls to come crumbling down. "No. I did not miss you."

"You hurt my feelings." He was quiet for a moment. "All those times together, we rode side by side, and I took care of you."

"Like hell you did." My back was pressed to the wall. "You tore me down, ripped me apart, and left me for dead."

"I made you stronger." He drew in a short breath. "You just fell weak." He let these words hang in the air. "The world is now tearing you down, ripping you apart, and leaving you for dead." His gaze held mine. "You need me."

"Why? So, I could see the true ugliness of the outside?"

"No, so you could escape."

"Into dreams that don't make sense and where you are in the driver-seat."

"What's wrong with that?" He leaned forward. "Why fight to be in control when the world is chaos?"

"Because there is still order." He laughed again like that was a great joke. "I'm in control."

"No, you're not." His words were a dagger to my heart. "Stress is eating you up, leaving your stomach in knots, and you cringe at the next day and the day after that. You dream in oblivion, whereas I am the way to a better world, one that will make you forget this one."

"What if I don't want to forget?"

"Is it better to remember this life?" He waited for my answer, but I had none. "Is it better to struggle to exist against powers that you cannot control?"

"You're telling me to give up."

"You already gave up, or I would not be here, sitting next to you."

He was right. Whether I meant to or not, I called him back. He returned without hesitation, and now I could not send him away. It was tempting to forget, forget who I was and what I was living for, and then there would be no worries. There would be only darkness.

"Well," he said like a man waiting for another appointment. "I don't have all the time in the world, and you need to sleep."

"I will sleep." He smiled at this. "I will sleep, but not with you by my side." I lied down on my back, ready to close my eyes, but in the back of my mind, I glimpsed that darkness. "Forget. That would be nice, but I can't walk this world asleep." I could feel the darkness turning, warming my heart, and it would be like a fine glass of wine to push me under. And I wanted to say yes. "I will sleep, and when I wake, you will be gone."

"You keep your secrets buried within your heart." He laid his hand across my chest, ice cold. "I stay within the back of your mind." He rose from his seat and popped his hat upon his head. "Until you call me again." He grabbed his bags and headed for the door. "And you will call me again." His gaze held mine. "Trust me on that." Then, he was gone.

I lied there, listening to the soft ticking of time counting my life away. Darkness settled upon me, warm and inviting. Sleep took my hand and carried me away from the turmoil of today, and I began to dream. But as the landscapes of vision changed, I realized that I was not in the driver-seat. I was riding shotgun while he took the wheel, and we were driving straight over the edge.