i had a dream last night (crazy?) that revealed thruths i needed to see (probably)

i found myself in a room of mirrors. i wasn't invited to this event.

wandering around a house where everyone i knew basically, was there. and everyone was having fun or conversing without directly acknowledging my existence . and i wasn't invited. i wasn't invited but i walked in there and i was walking around

for some reason felt more anger than i did glad. so i was angry. i felt angry. 

and no one acknowledged this. I didn't say it. I didn't say anything. 

and really, maybe that's why everyone around me failed to sense my anger.

for some reason i felt my presence should've been enough to make notice of it. 

then i went into the room with mirrors. I looked into all of them but never saw my reflection in any

regardless i hit at it

and my meagre attempt at a swing barely managed to shatter the glass

and i know i did something wrong, i know I'm doing something wrong, and I'm still doing it, or trying to in whatever attempt. with whatever depleting energy i have left

and she enters the room with an annoyingly calm look and tells me : "why do you do this? you do this every time. you get mad and ruin things. and no one ever knows why. why do you do this?" and i could almost hear her say, 'to yourself' when i know she didn't. 

and i stumble and make excuses ,,, speaking frrom my heart,, 

"i know what I'm doing. i know that it's wrong. that's the point. maybe you need to ask yourself why I'd even feel the need to do something this wrong. why i felt the need to lash out in the first place'

and i ran. i ran away, bumping into people i know who give me nothing but smiles and sympathy 

and i hated all of it

i bumped into that person i hated so much and i hugged them

as if just wanting any sort of comfort. reaching out to anyone, just as long as they're there.  

they showed some sort of discomfort to this. some sort of indifference. 

something letting me know that, actually, we're not close enough to do this. 

something along the lines of ,'I don't know you' written on their expression 

and i found that my running felt tiresome. and i ended up just wandering around. 

Walking around with no real aim, cooling off, my previous anger withering down. 

at that moment i felt like i was a child again, that i was moping around after a tantrum. 

Really, that is what happened. It's not that figurative anymore when I put it like that.

Then i wandered into the kitchen and there was soup. The party has died down and the house was empty.

and it was dark. but it felt warm there. brighter. 

and there was a bowl of soup for me. 

no one really said it was mine, but it was given to me and I'd assume it was.

buttery noodles. it tasted like nothing because it was a dream

but it felt nice. 

it just felt healing in a way, having this dream, going through this experience 

it felt fulfilling 

compared to how empty and lonesome my memories are of similar events 

how there was nothing to comfort me but my thoughts and sleep

and now, again, sleep has provided me a false sense of closure

and i know i can't go back and change things 

but in this dream it felt as if i was seeing something that was changed 

maybe in a different world where i didn't have to sulk alone and deal with it myself, where what i felt and experienced mattered in some way, even a little