Joshler Book

Dream Boy

{tyler's pov}

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:. Oneshot 1 .:

I've been trying so hard to get him out of my dreams, but even with counseling, he still appears, even as a misty being in a dark corner, eyes sparkling with lust.

Sometimes his hair is light, pastel blue, like a fresh baby blanket. Other days it's ballet shoe pink. But last night, it was a color I'd never dreamt up previously.

It was fiery red, shooting up in all different directions, but in an absolutely endearing way. It always looked so soft, and I would always attempt to reach out to get my fingers lost in it, but my hand would go straight through him, as if he was a complex gathering of mist, or even a ghost, and he would look up at me with sad eyes. He was always dressed in all black. I still don't know if there's a meaning to that.

Unlike his hair, his eyes never changed. They always remained the same deep chocolate brown, the type you could get lost in. He'd just look at me, a dopey smirk lifted up the right corner of his lip.

What killed me was that I could never touch him. All he could do was stand there, we couldn't even hold hands.

The dream would always end right as I try to hug him. And it's always there, where I actually start to feel his body between my arms.

And then, I wake up. Usually in tears.

I've named him Josh.

My parents discovered my 'dream diagnosis' as the counselors called it, one night where the dream hurt especially badly. I had tried to kiss him, leaning my entire body towards him. I began to feel his hands reach around my waist, and I was so close to his blissful, pink lips..

And I woke up. Sobbing. I was sobbing so loudly in fact that my mother soon burst through the door of my bedroom, concern and fear mixed in her eyes.

'Josh..Josh, it's Josh I want Josh!' I remember yelling out through short breaths and sobs.

After explaining to her, that's when the hellish counseling appointments came rolling in.

Every counselor I've been to says it's simply my minds way of creating an 'ideal partner' and that I 'just need to find the right person in life and these dreams would end'.

And that's the problem. I knew, somewhere in my mind, that Josh was my ideal. He was real. He existed. And I needed to find him. I've read somewhere that your mind can't create new faces in dreams. All of the faces you see in your sleep, you've seen before.

What more proof does one need?

No one ever believes me when I tell people that Josh is real, they just shush me out and continue to talk.

The language of the counsellors is always so depressing, so melancholy.

"You'll have to get over Josh soon, Tyler."

"You have to realize that he's simply a figment of your imagination."

"This just isn't normal for a boy your age."

I hated it. I hated everything about being forced into those offices, the cold sterile walls almost silently forcing me to admit something I knew was a lie. That my ideal boy, Josh, wasn't real.

I've never seen a face like his. Nor have I ever seen hair like his, or eyes like his. He was stunningly unique, and that's what intrigued me about him. Sometimes I think to myself,
'what if Josh really is..just a dream boy?'

But at the same time, I know he's real. And I know he's out there.

I need to start looking for him. And it starts today.