Saturday morning, I had a dream that I was running from darkness, and whenever it touched me, the darkness burned. It was like in the movie Catching Fire when they’re running from the poisonous fog, except it wasn’t fog: it was darkness.
After putting some thought into it though, I think the dream was about me running away from my problems. I didn’t want to face the problems that had happened to me, so this dream was just basically my subconscious telling me to stop running from my problems. That didn’t really make sense, though, because I wasn’t having any problems. I didn’t have any problems to run away from. When I was little, I ran away from home. It wasn’t for very long, but I still ran away. I ran away because my mom wouldn’t buy me a Lego Harry Potter set. I remember contemplating what it would be like having to be homeless, and that scared me so much that I ended up going back home a half an hour later after I left. I was so upset that I remember crying over it. I was such a cute little shit back then. What happened to me? I grew up is my problem, I think.
My mom wanted me to go to the store to buy some groceries, so I took her car and went. It was so weird driving on the left side of the road, but I got used to it. I liked that I was allowed to drive with my U.S. license for 3 months before I had to get an Australian one. It made it easier; not having to rush into getting a license.
I pulled into Costco’s parking lot, and headed inside. On the list it said we needed milk, bananas, cereal, and paper towels. What a simple groceries list! It didn’t take long to find all the things, and on my way back to the checkout aisles I saw a familiar face. It was Finley. He was looking at magazines. I got really tense. Do I go talk to him? I didn’t know what to do, so I just stood there like an idiot not knowing what to do. He looked so cute standing there reading the magazines. I figured he was really enjoying what he was reading because he kept smiling, but then I thought, what if he knew I was looking at him? I freaked out, turned the other way, and went the long way to the checkout aisles.
When I got home, I told my mom that I saw a friend from school while I was at the store, and she asked me, “Oh, did you say hello?”
“No, I was scared,” I replied.
Assuming it was a girl, she asked, “Oh, was she cute?”
“Uh, sure.” I mean, it wasn’t completely lying. He was cute, but I wasn’t necessarily telling the truth either because he wasn’t a girl.
“What’s her name?” she asked curiously.
“Uh, I don’t know. I just know she’s really attractive,” I said, lying about the fact that I know his name.
“Well, you should talk to her more! Get to know her; you never know what you could be in for if you never try,” she said, giggling.
I laughed, hard. At my school in America I had a really good friend whom I told everything. Her name was Laura. I was talking to her one day, and we were on the subject about our crushes. I told her all the guys I thought were really attractive. She did one of the bitchiest things someone could ever do: she told them. Half of them were in my gym hour, and every day I had to walk into the locker room and mutter “Fuck my life” under my breath because they all knew I thought they were attractive, and for some odd reason thought I wanted them. I was so angry with her. When someone confides in you with something, you shouldn’t run around telling everyone. You think you know someone, but then they go and surprise you. It’s just not right.
