Terror

I'm easy to panic, easy to scare. I guess it's expected. Inevitable, even.

Let's face it. Sometimes, my fantasies skim the borders of illegal acts. Rape, coercion.. Fear is part of the aphrodisiac, sure. That admission is easy when all I am really referring to is imagined fear and nothing more tangible than that. In fact, anything more corporeal, touchable, will probably trigger a complete shut down. Panic-stricken, I will most likely cry or run or.. I don't know. Who knows? Maybe even roleplaying will prove to be too much.

I am terrified of the countless moments when my dreams suddenly turn from erotic to nightmarish. Then I condemn my dark desires and resolve to never think of them again. To never write of them or speak of them to anyone, lest I wander into situations I will one day regret.

Tonight, I had one of those nightmares again, and I am scared. Afraid to close my eyes, to fall asleep. Appalled that, this time, I dreamt of someone I care deeply for. I'm ashamed of the dream-memory of that beloved face twisted with sadistic insanity. I feel disturbed. I said his name aloud. The sound woke me. Nothing but a whisper, though in my dream, I was screaming it at the top of my lungs, trying to stop something that, even now, I realize could not have been real.

God dammit, I can't rationalize it enough that it would feel less threatening. It was just a dream. Just a silly dream.