What would you choose?

"Dreaming permits each and every one of us to be quietly and safely insane every night of our lives." ~William Dement~

Sleep never comes easy. It is illusive and a luxury. Most nights, I lie awake waiting for my mind to unwind and unravel the tangle of thoughts that haunt me awake. Restless and disconsolate. Heavy and burdened. I'm still learning to let go. Some lessons just take a lifetime to learn, I suppose. For me, the price is always sleep. Because no one else suffers for it except me and that is how I prefer things. To suffer alone than burden others. 

Six years ago, however, I do remember a night when I did fall asleep. My body allowed itself to succumb to the will of slumber if only by means of intoxication. Who knew luxury could be so tormenting. My divorce had just been finalized and for months I did not get one wink of sleep as I let my failures bog me down. I thought about the brokenness of our little family. There were nights I wished none of it had ever happened. Giant pitfalls of  regret washed over my entire soul and a blackness entered my heart. The honest truth was I could not stand the thought of being a single mother. The thought had me retching my cowardly guts out. 

I wanted to die. To end. There was no use for me. I had no purpose. I had done nothing worthwhile with my life, and I just wanted to fall flat and never get up again. Isaac went to bed that night, and I went downstairs and sunk into the couch with a bottle of sangria. I chugged and guzzled that bottle down like a drunk (I probably, technically may have rightfully been labeled such). And I remember the swirl and swoon of the room before I crashed. Not the best way to fall asleep but my eyes closed finally!

I woke up in a shadowy vision of my living room, soaked in my sweat and a man was standing in front of me. He was dressed in white robes that stretched down to his ankles but stopped just above his bare feet. I didn't see a radiant glow around him like the ones I expect from angels. But his face was kind, serene, and inquisitive. It felt like he pitied me and was laughing at me at the same time. 

"Who are you?" I asked, trying to sit up but feeling like my head would explode. He beckons me to remain sitting and in a fluid, imperceptible movement, he is also sitting on the couch by my side. He has no scent, and he is solid yet opaque. It's odd that I'm not more alarmed or scared.

"I've come to give you a choice," he states quiet yet resonating in tones of shimmering gold and silk. He touches my forehead gently with his thumb and my head stops pounding. He allows me to sit up, slowly. 

"You can go back and make new choices," his statement is so simple and so vague yet I knew exactly what he was offering. It was clear in my mind as if he'd given me every detail. I could go back to my past and change my decisions. Do things differently. 

"Yes," I am too eager to oblige. I need this to be better for me. Better for us. For Isaac. 

"But every choice you alter, will alter everything you have now...." he raises a finger but I'm too eager. I want to go. I want to fix things. I want my life back. The life I had planned out so perfectly. 

"Take me to my past!" I am at his knees and crying. 

"All decisions have the potential to lead to heartbreak, young mortal.." he stated then took my hand and we floated away from that miserable living room, leaving the empty sangria bottle behind.

And I did go back. I altered my decisions. I finished college. I became a journalist, traveling and chasing stories. I married a wonderful man who was devoted and fantastic. The world was so beautiful and everything felt so right. Time passed and everything always fell into place for me. I made failure-proof decisions. It was perfect. Almost. There was a piece I was missing and I was still waiting for it. Isaac. 

There was a daughter. Then another daughter. And then another. And I knew I loved them. I knew I wanted them. But there was something missing. Things began to feel hollow, rehearsed, and vacant. And I felt a great void growing in my heart and the same darkness as before came seeping through my picture perfect world. There was an anger and ache gnawing at my soul.

Then the sleepless nights returned as I realized my heart was breaking again. The world I wanted seemed perfect. But my soul craved Isaac. The one who loved me so effortlessly through all the bad. Who smiled even though his happy little world had changed so much when he was so young. That perfect little heart crafted so perfectly for me. Why isn't he a part of this world yet?!?!? Another bottle of sangria appeared, and I swigged this bottle faster, furiously. 

"I want him back!!!" I cried aloud. "Please, have mercy on my greedy heart! In any life I choose, that boy is my light! 

"Yes, I sent him just for you," the man was standing before me once again, hand on my head, smiling and laughing behind those kind eyes. I grasped his ankles and wet his feet with my tears. 

"Would you return to life as it was before? With Isaac?" he lifted me to my feet, still smiling and laughing. 

"Yes! Please, send me back to him! Whatever life I have to live! Whatever sorrows I have to face, I want Isaac!"

"Life is not for you to choose what you want all the time, young girl. Appreciate the things in your life now, for they are exactly what you need. Your husband left you. Your family broke. But you are still whole, and you are still loved. Isaac loves you and that is all you need right now." 

"Yes! Yes, I know," I laugh through my tears and feel how juvenile and puerile I've behaved. And then the world heaved and sighed and floated away in rippling waves. I was shot through a tunnel of radiant light and energy with a whooshing of air and thundering wind. My eyes closed while my cheeks fluttered around my teeth and chin. There was a terrifying moment of free falling and then darkness engulfed me. I could feel it even with my eyes closed. 

My eyes fly open after a moment and I'm sitting on my couch, empty sangria bottle collapsed on the carpet below me. The pounding in my head has returned and I rise too quickly. I empty the contents of my stomach onto the faux wood part of the kitchen. 

I bound two steps at a time up the stairs until I reach our room in our dingy little one bedroom town home, and there he is. My Isaac. With his soft brown hair, dimpled cheeks, and stubby nose. Sleeping peacefully. Sprawled all over his big boy bed because even in his sleep, he moves all over the place like a restless runner or gymnast. Whatever life includes Isaac, that is the life I choose. Because this version of me in this world and in this time period will always love and adore that boy.