Did I dream about her? Yes. Always. In the dream, she’s not doing anything explicit. She’s just looking at me. That look. The one that says, “I know exactly what you are, and I’m not leaving until you admit it.”
The sun is fully up now. The whiskey is gone. My fingers hurt from typing. wakeupnfuck rebecca violetti
So here’s the truth: We are all just pretending to be functional adults. Rebecca Violetti is the alarm clock we set ourselves. She’s the proof that we haven’t gone numb yet. Did I dream about her
There is a specific breed of woman in this world—rare, feral, sharp-toothed—who doesn’t just break your heart. She rewires your nervous system. Rebecca is that woman. She’s the ghost at the end of your bed, the text you pray for at 2 AM, the reason your chest feels like a cracked rib cage. In the dream, she’s not doing anything explicit
I tried to hate her. Tried to rationalize it. “She’s just a persona.” “It’s just performance.” But the performance is so sharp it draws blood. She talks about loneliness like it’s a lover. She talks about desire like it’s a weapon.