22nd
dream.
In the thirteen hours of sleep I got last night, I had a dream so real that I could’ve sworn it happened in real life. It took place this past summer, in Puerto Rico. I went to some house to try to hang out with my high school friends, and they had forgotten all about me, and they didn’t really want to hang out. One of them even told me, “I still like you, but I forgot all about you; we don’t care about you anymore.” Then they all asked me for a ride somewhere, and I was REALLY mad. I just drove to the airport and came to Boston, without my belongings or anything on me.
The weird part is that something like this happened this summer, except for the part where someone actually manages to verbalize what everybody is thinking. Everyone just sort of pushed me away and I ended up all by myself. Which, of course, made me really sad at the time, but now just makes me glad it happened. Sometimes I get angry at how they never faced the situation like I did, and accepted that we’d all grown apart (them and me) and moved on. The only friend I still have back there has accepted the fact that we’ve both changed, and we didn’t let it get between us (at least for now). The rest of them expected me to be the same way I was in high school, eager to please others and easy to manipulate.
Of course, nothing matters now. If anything, this situation only reenforced the fact that I don’t belong there, that maybe I never did. Those people haven’t lived nearly as much as I have in the past year or so; they’re completely caught up in their own microcosm. I’ve had to work my ass off here, start from scratch in a place completely new to me, make new friends, while they’ve drunk themselves into deep stupor.
What a beautifully fucked-up dream. Nothing like a horrible cold and 13 hours of sleep to open your eyes.
