Dream Log 23: A Vistor
It’s not often that I have dreams consecutively one night after the other. I don’t know how to feel about this particular dream because it’s about someone I’ve been trying to forget about but she keeps coming back time after time again. I was getting by really well up until this dream happened and now all of a sudden she’s back in my mind again. I keep mentally telling myself to stop thinking about her. She barely had anything to do with my life and probably had no interest in me. Am I this desperate and deprived for relationships for this to occur so often. It wasn’t like this when I was in College failing to get my degree. It wasn’t even like this during my NEETdom phase either. On with the dream already.
Nothing too crazy with the setting of this dream. I was driving home from work and everything is normal as usual. I would have mistaken this dream for reality until that moment when I unlocked that door to my house. My mom was there in the kitchen counter talking to someone. I am sure as hell know exactly who she was talking to. My high school crush. Her hair was black this time as opposed to the light brown hair she usually had. Exactly how she looked the last time I’ve seen her. It pisses me off how accurate these dreams are to details. What the hell was she doing at my house? She doesn’t even know where I live. She’s not a friend. She never was a friend. I felt even more anger that she was talking with my mom of all people.
My mom told me: ”Hey (name redacted). This is (her name redacted), your best friend. She came by to check on you to see if everything is okay. She’s way too pretty for you, I’d expected worse from you.” I couldn’t really say anything because my social anxiety was preventing me from calling her out on her insult. But my crush didn’t seem bothered by it either. They seem to be having a decent conversation from the looks of it. They then went on with whatever they were talking about as I went all “Hiding in my room” and closed the door on my bedroom as a means to keep them out. They are talking about embarrassing shit about me. Like stuff I used to do when I was kid such as acting out movie scenes, or singing and rapping back when I was in elementary. It’s so irritating to hear them laugh and talk. It’s like my whole life is a joke to both of them. I just sit there and lie on my bed, staring at my ceiling when I hear a knock on my door. It’s my crush. She walks and sits gently on the side of my bed. “Sorry for taking too long. Your mom is really nice. I didn’t know all that stuff about you until she told me.” I just shook my head in disagreement. “That’s not why I am here. Don’t worry. I heard you started working recently. I know it’s been really crazy for you lately. I just wanted to make sure you were doing fine.” I reply “I’m okay I guess.” She smiles and pats me on the head. I’m not a dog. She might be older than me but that doesn’t warrant petting my head.
I get up and sit upright on my bed. I don’t really say anything else so she ends up breaking the silence. “Did you have lunch yet?” I respond: “I made a sandwich for work but I didn’t eat all of it. I’m not really hungry.” She then says: “Do you have any leftovers.” I reply: “Yeah but they have my bite marks.” She giggles and says she doesn’t mind. I open the lunch box and unwrap what was left my lunch. A half eaten tuna sandwich. I hand it over to her and she immediately takes a bite from the same spot where I was eating. I hope she knows there are my germs on that sandwich. This is basically like an indirect kiss to her. She doesn’t even seem bothered by that fact. “This is pretty good. I can see why you like them so much” she remarks. She massages my leg with her free hand as she eats my sandwich with the other. What’s with her behavior anyways? I mean, it’s sort of like how she really was back when I knew her in high school but she’s being really open with me in this dream.
”You used to sing and rap? I never knew you could do any of that stuff. You’re too shy for that kind of thing.” I mumble: “No, that was a long time ago…” “Why don’t you sing something for me?” She asks. I shake my head urgently. I can’t sing. I couldn’t even open my mouth when they would make us sing in tune for marching band practice. My voice is horrible. It’s like a monkey with down syndrome. And besides, the whole rapping thing was a joke between my cousin and myself. Singing was just something I did as a kid when I didn’t have anxiety or confidence issues. It was fun back then. It’s not fun anymore. “Does it make you uncomfortable?” Why is she trying to interrogate me. This is making me very fucking uncomfortable. I nod in response. “It’s alright, you can sing for me some other time.” I bluntly state: “I’d rather not.” She gently rubs my shoulder. “You’ll get over it eventually. I know it.” Is she some sort of guardian angel or something? I don’t need any of this. I don’t deserve her comforts. None of this real I know it.
Sure enough, reality makes a return and I am awaken by my mom who yells at that she’s leaving and to do all these chores while she’s away. Yeah, finally back to what really matters in my life. No fucking delusions, no false hopes, no comforts either. Just the cold (or rather burning hellhole of a place), harsh, and brutal reality that may or may not be personalized by the creator who thought it would be funny to put me through all this. Fuuuuuuuuuck.Return to Catalog