Chapter 1: Reflections on Heartbreak

This piece is not intended for a polished publication; it’s a candid expression of my thoughts and feelings. While it may contain errors, it serves as a therapeutic outlet for my mind. Perhaps one day, it will evolve into something more refined, but for now, it is simply a personal narrative.

Dear Diary…

I submitted an article to a publication recently, and I've been waiting for a response for days, which is frustrating. I find it difficult to write a follow-up until I receive feedback on that piece.

Last night, I had a vivid dream about Jeremy, the man I dated for nine months, whose departure left me feeling humiliated.

During the day, thoughts of him invade my mind despite my efforts to push them away. Sometimes, I reminisce about what I miss about him and our bond, while other times, I feel anger and pain.

I am upset that on the very night we parted ways, I shared something deeply personal: how my parents never expressed their love for me during my childhood. That revelation was made in the context of a conversation about him and my religious upbringing, but it felt like a betrayal of my privacy.

It’s disheartening to acknowledge that I was involved with someone I considered out of my league. I projected a façade of being "The Cool Girl," yet I manifested the very outcome I feared. For a fleeting moment, when he spoke about merging our families and living together, I felt a glimmer of hope—hope that my life was finally aligning after my divorce.

Now, I reject hope altogether. I had envisioned a brighter future post-divorce, yet I'm grappling with various challenges that have left me feeling stagnant, only now with fewer resources and less time with my children.

The end of my relationship with Jeremy extinguished my desire for hope. Hope fosters a belief in a positive future, and I am tired of that illusion.

Have I reverted to the emotional state I experienced during my marriage? Crying alone on the bathroom floor, feeling that my only purpose is to raise my children until my own end?

Returning to my dream, I recognize that sharing dreams can often be tedious. “Thanks for narrating a collection of nonsensical events that bear no significance to my life,” is a thought I often entertain.

In my dream, although we were no longer together, Jeremy visited with his youngest son. I believe he was gathering his belongings to leave. He was his usual cheerful self, full of jokes. I had never met his son in reality, yet there I was, engaged in conversation with him. The dream was interspersed with random moments, but the overall experience felt incredibly real. Eventually, Jeremy concluded whatever he was doing and departed.

Even in my dreams, I am aware that I am asleep. Last night was an exception; it felt so authentic that when my alarm rang, I was bewildered for several minutes.

It has been months since I last saw Jeremy. To feel his presence and interact with him in my dream made his departure feel like the breakup all over again.

It pains me to cry over someone who was inconsiderate and unkind during our breakup. To clarify, a significant portion of my sorrow stems from the manner in which it ended.

Heartbreak is truly the worst.

Chapter 2: The Dream and Its Impact

The first video, How the Enemy Works in Dreams, delves into the subconscious influences that shape our dreams, exploring how past relationships can haunt us even in sleep. This insight can help us understand the patterns in our emotional lives.

The second video, THIS DREAM Is How God Reveals Your Enemies, discusses the spiritual implications of dreams and how they can serve as messages about those who may not have our best interests at heart.