I couldn't answer

I had a dream. I dreamed I was dead. And when I went up to heaven, the Lord asked me if I had lived a life with no regrets.

I couldn't answer.

He asked if I had lived a fulfilling life, and if I had managed to touch anyone's lives.

I couldn't answer.

He asked, if I had managed to forgive everyone who might have ever have irritated me.

I couldn't answer.

He shook his head sadly, and asked, "Then, my child, did you manage to forgive yourself?"

I stared at him. And stared. And the tears started to fall.

I couldn't answer him.

That heart of mine, so full of anger, self-hatred, and selfish thoughts. And I had to open it up and show it to him. I couldn't bear it. I had taken every single one of his expectations and thrown them to the ground, ground them in. How was it that I could still face him?

I hadn't used the gifts he had given me. I was like the servant who hid his master's talents into the ground, and when his master returned, gave the talents back saying "Here it is. I didn't spend it or take a piece from it."

What right did I have to talk to him?

I couldn't answer.

But it was too late. I was dead. And I couldn't turn back time. I regreted my life. And I cried.

"If only I had told my mum how much it hurt."

"If only I had told him how much he meant to me."

"If only I could have forgiven them."

"If only I could forgive myself."

And as I stood there, I stared at him. And I wept.

I found myself trembling. I was afraid. So afraid.

I didn't want to be thrown into eternal suffering.

And so I cried. The tears which had refused to be shed when I was alive fell now that I was dead.

And then he asked, "Do you think you deserve to enter these gates of heaven?"

And I couldn't answer.

No. This isn't a real dream. Was just feeling depressed, so I decided to write this random emo story. But, the fears in there are real. Well, mostly.

He asked me if I had given love.

And I couldn't answer.