Yellow Season

Sweet Dreams

Last night I had a dream about Lionel Dawson.

No. Not a sex dream. A simple and much more normal dream; where he actually made a conversation with me. I surmise, I dreamt it because I want it to happen. I often dream about impossible things which I want to happen to me in real life.

Lionel and I know(?) each other from a youth club of Delaware county. I won't specify which. He went there so that he could add more to his already astounding resume for College. And I went there... well... because my mother thought it would be better if I learn to know the ways of how to be a part of anything from now on.
So I went there every Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. And I sit around a corner without making any interaction on my own attempt. Of course, I completed all the tasks that needed my hand. But it was never enough. Because I did none of those by my own will. I took them as my duties not my passion. That had to leave an effect on my work. And so, where the others got compliments such as 'Excellent' or 'Wonderful', I always received a plain smile and sometimes a dry thanks too; on such occasions.

And, it was Lionel who was the best among all of us. He was equally handsome, charming, smart, confident and social. Everyone loved him. He was the 'Jim Halpert' of our club. Always ready for challenges, super passionate for Debate and super, super nice to women around him. Except for me.

It's true. Lionel never even talked to me! He just always gave me those weird and most awkward stares that made me feel more insecure about my personality than I have ever felt before he looked directly into my eyes and shook my freaking world to it's core.

I am like those wimpy love-seeking girls from those stupid rom-coms. I hate my life right now. It frightens me to even think of the failure that awaits me in the future.
No. I don't know the future but failure always waits for all of us, doesn't it? It can be anything. With luck we can dodge it but what if I fail to dodge it? Who will prefer a woman who failed? Failed to stand out. Failed to prove herself to the society. Failed to earn respect and love in return of her services. What if I fall into the darkness? Who will pull me out of that poignant vicinity of dread? Will Craig save me? Or Lionel? Or someone else? What if no one helps me? What if I stay there for eternity?

Last week, Lionel and I were having one of those awkward eye contacts; yet again. What is wrong with this guy? Why does he keep looking at me like this? What does he want? I am already confused enough because of that stupid Craig. Now, this asshole is also trying to make me go nuts. My head starts spinning like it got stuck in a whirlwind whenever I look into his dark brown yet sparkling eyes. My throat dries out. It feels like I didn't get to drink water for an entire centenary. Why does it feel like this?
Ugh...I am so stupid. I should understand that guys like Lionel will never approach me; rather, they will spend their whole life staring at me because girls like me won't add anything better to decorate his personality. Better, he fights against his internal urge to be with me. Worth the respect and acceptance of his friends.

I am not famous. I don't have an outstanding friend circle. Plus, my social life is a disaster. And becoming a friend of mine will ruin his. Hence , he will never talk to me even if he is dying to do so. Or, maybe he isn't. Maybe I am imaging it all. Maybe he stares at me because my nose looks fat to him. Maybe, he finds my features funny. It could be anything. But as I am some delusional stupid; I had to make a big deal out of it, didn't I?

Forget this. Let's catch up with the dream.
I forgot mostly about it. The memory is hazy right now. Okay, It started like this: So, I was getting the unwanted slogs done at the club. Lionel appears sitting next to me after a few moments. I could feel the confusion in my dream; because Lionel and I never sat together at the same bench.

"You dropped your scarf," he says to me while tossing a light smirk to me. "I love your top. Did you wear it for me?"

I sweep my eyes to check my outfit. I was wearing a Victoria's Secret 'Limited Edition' Corset top. Why am I wearing a corset top on a casual meeting day of the volunteers at the club? And how did I manage to buy this thing? It is literally impossible to buy an expensive lingerie such as this one; even if I save my pocket money for the next two years.

Alright, guys!! It was not a 'simple' or 'normal' dream. It was one of those hot and steamy dreams you have when you have a little crush on someone. But I swear; Lionel and I, don't end up having sex at the end of this dream.

I shifted my eyes on Lionel. He is still giving me one of those weird-ass smirks.
"Do you like it?" I inquired.

"You want me to like it?" he threw another question at my already flushed face. (I don't know if it was flushed or not. I just think it should have been flushed by then.)
"Let me think." I said with my finger on my eyebrows pretending as if I am actually considering the idea.

"I can bet you want me to." he blurted out with unimaginable confidence. "Honestly, I like seeing you this way. You look different. Beautiful and desirable."

Me? Desirable? Who is making that comment? Lionel? The Lionel Dawson??
At this point of the dream I figured out the scam. I didn't want the dream to break. I tried my best to play along as long as my brain allowed.

"You seem different today. We don't talk to each other? Remember?" I nudged him.
"Are you surprised?" He asked closing the distance between us by scooping me into his arms.

"Maybe...a little!"

"I love the look on your face when you're surprised." he said.

I could feel his hand on my waist. His face got near mine. And within a couple of seconds his lips grabbed mine and I woke up from that horrifying yet lovely dream.
Horrifying, because I have never dreamed of anything like this. Lovely, because again, I have never had a dream such as this one. I was all sweaty and thirsty after waking up from that dream. I drank the whole glass of water which I always keep on my bed-side table before going to the bed. I couldn't sleep the whole night.

Next morning on my way to the school; I decided from now on, it's just me and my studies. Mel and Jodie told me that they have started writing their assays already. For the context, Mel and Jodie are my friends from school. We became friends in junior high.
And, What the fuck am I doing? I mentally asked myself.
I should put my career before anything else. Right now, I should focus on my upcoming admissions. I have to get into a university as soon as possible.
Not just any university. I redressed myself. I have to get into The university. Stanford University, is the university of my dreams. Ever since I have known the concept of higher studies, I made my mind up to this; that if under any circumstances I may go to a college, it has to be Stanford.
I must earn my freedom, my status, my place in this society and this could be the first step of achieving everything I have ever wanted for myself. So, I have to concentrate on my studies not on cruel boys who likes to play with the feelings of poor girls.

Oh, how I hate men!
Not all men.
I loved my father. But I think, right at this moment, I love him much more than I ever did.
Is it because of the guilt of not forgiving him until he died. It is true, he made a mistake. And I could forgive him if I wanted. I just couldn't. I used to tell myself: I have had enough of this nonsense; not anymore. Enough of the suffocation and mental games.