Many years ago, a friend told me: "In a lucid dream you can do anything."

I can't see anyone not being enthralled by the idea of being a god in your own private reality. You create the rules, the laws that bind.

It almost seems too good to be true.

After doing some research into the subject, I began to keep a dream journal. From what I read, the more you write down and think about your dreams, the more you'll remember. The more you remember, the longer the dream experience is. The longer the dream, the more time to practice realizing that you're dreaming (without startling yourself back into consciousness).

Eventually, I had a few instances of lucid dreaming. Definitely nothing close to godhood, but still enlightening.

I tried flying, which worked, until I got distracted by something else and kind of plummeted. No pain though. No fear.

The last of the small handful of experiences that I had, kind of turned me off of it.

I was in some kind of old family castle, quite picturesque and serene (though completely fabricated). I encountered the spirit of my recently deceased grandfather, somehow trapped in the undercroft. Only once I'd freed him, through many confusing and off-putting tasks, it was revealed to me that he was not my grandfather, but some malevolent spirit that I've now set loose.

After being manipulated, I wanted nothing more to do with the dream. But I found it difficult to wake. Eventually I did, with the help of my great grandfather's spirit.

I don't believe any of it was real, or symbolic in any way; I believe it was a disturbing and disquieting dream.

I stopped lucid dreaming after that.

Now, almost a dozen years later, I’m 30 years old, have a chronic jaw clenching problem that leads to migraines, and live a shell of a life. Alone.

But I began trying again. Trying to immerse myself in a world of my own, in my head. A world with my wife.

We’d have been married for 7 years, come this spring, if she hadn’t gone missing.

I don’t fault the police for not finding her, I know they tried their best. I’ve had people try to gently suggest that she’s okay, and she left of her own volition. Even worse, some say she’s in a “better place”. I know it’s not true though. Someone or something took her from me.

I haven’t slept properly the past year without her. What’s the point in going to bed, if not beside her? Why wake up to a world without her in it?

I’m constantly racked with guilt. Why wasn’t it me that went missing? Why did it have to be her, of all the people in the world?

Worse yet, my ability to picture her face in my thoughts degraded substantially. I can’t even remember exactly what she looked like. It haunts me to try to remember my pride and joy, and be met with strange, mashed up bundles of characteristics that are close, but so terribly wrong.

Recently, in one of my sleep deprived fugue states, I swear I saw my grandfather. Obviously not truly him, maybe the spirit that pretended to be him in my dream. I know it wasn’t real, but it seemed like a sign.

Whatever it was, it gave me the idea of how I could finally see my wife again; how we might resume our lives together. I knew it would be an imitation, I knew it would all be a false facade. But I needed to see her again, touch her with my own hands. Look into those eyes and feel the truth that photos can’t compel.

I had tried to figure out ways to actually get to sleep. Drugs didn’t work because I couldn't remember anything of my dreams; they kept my journal empty.

Occasionally in a stroke of luck, or perhaps fate, I’d manage to lose consciousness for long enough to realize something out of this world has occurred.

Between those lucky moments of fragmented unconsciousness, I noted down the things I saw in my waking life that don’t belong. I know I’m not crazy, because I know they can’t be real.

Perhaps symptoms of this plague, named insomnia.

I eventually was able to recognize, and to some degree control, the brief bouts of fitful dreams I’d have. The golden rule when lucid dreaming is to not get too excited, too worked up. If you do, then your body will naturally wake from the excitement, as you would from a nightmare. Unfortunately, when thoughts of my beautiful wife slowly crept into my mind, I couldn’t help myself. I’d roll back into reality. Back into a life not worth living.

One day, it finally happened. I couldn’t quite place my finger on how I knew, but it was true.

One of my waking dreams was her. She simply breezed right past me as I was in the grocery store. Perhaps I willed her into existence?

I knew that she wouldn’t be there, but I dropped everything I had and ran outside from the checkout (to the cashier’s dismay) to try to see her, just to catch a glimpse of her face..

I can’t help but clench, giving way to the headaches, when I think back to it, how I must have just missed her.

At least I knew it was working. Or so I thought.

Sleep became particularly evasive after that, therefore, no dreams.

The conscious manifestations of my restless mind gave no respite to my emotional exhaustion either. I caught the occasional smell of her fragrance, or heard sounds reminiscent of her gentle purrs as she slept. Yet I could not be certain that they were truly fragments of my own world seeping through, or simply the red herrings of “reality”.

I began to try everything I could think of. I even ordered some mescaline filled cactus from South America. The experience was strange, and at times, uncomfortable. But I think I gained some level of wisdom from it.

I started to realize that the waking world and my personal reality were not so different. I could control things, albeit with greater effort, in the real world. Small things at first, in tricky ways. I’d be able to unintentionally move things from one place to another, through a strange retroactive process.

It began when I left my home, knowing that I wore my white, waffle-knit hoodie. Throughout the day I kept thinking that I should have worn something a little warmer. By the time I was on my way home, it happened.

I first realized that I wasn’t as cold as I thought I should’ve been, as I dug my hands into the pockets of my sweater.

Then it dawned on me. My waffle-knit hoodie has no pockets.

Somehow, using the power of thought, just like in my dreams, I was able to transform one sweater into another. It may seem trivial, but I knew it could be my first step to godhood.

Omnipotence outside of the dream world. I could bring her back.

It felt too good to be true. I’m still not sure whether or not it is.

After a span of time I can’t quite measure, I was able to gain more control over reality. Nothing like flying, or superpowers, but I could subtly predict events that were going to happen. I’d envision them, or rather, feel them happen, moments before they would occur.

Most importantly, I gained power over my sleep.

I could lay down, close my eyes, and reopen them on the other side at will.

The more I practiced on the other side, the stronger I became in the real world. The barrier between reality and dreams was thinning.

Yet still she was out of my grasp. I felt as though I was losing her more and more with every passing day. I couldn’t remember her name anymore. She was slowly fading out of existence. All pictures of her, documents containing information about her, even her driver’s license which I held onto in my wallet. All of it was either missing, or the information obscured.

Then it hit me.

It is taking her away again. Whatever took her in reality, wherever it took her to, It is now trying to take her out of existence entirely. Robbing me of her memory.

I became conflicted. It appeared the stronger I became, so too did the reach of It.

Should I continue trying to save her, or should I pursue It, to put an end to It’s treachery?

Which brings me to the here and now. I don’t write these words, I don’t type them into my laptop. I will them into being. What is written in the dream world, appears on the screen in reality.

I believe I’ve found the solution. I think I know what It is, after all this time.

She and It are one in the same. Two sides of the same coin, the yin and yang. It is reality, and She is the other side.

To transcend the boundaries of this feeble mortal coil, I must commit myself fully. I will slip into the deepest of sleeps. Nothing shall wake me, possibly forever. Due to my power and control, I will never die, but so too will I never wake.

I will shed the shackles of the universe. From the other side, I will truly become a god.

Then I will tear down the wall between this world and the next.

I will return, to Her.

By: Taylor, aka Tewahway