1/30/11
I dreamed that I got to snog Nick Jonas.
My two besties and I were getting frozen yogurt in this shopping center and we saw a little ballet studio. Incidentally, we all loved ballet, so of course we went inside to observe the class. As it turned out, this was no ordinary ballet studio. This was an undercover Private Investigation service. And Nicholas Jonas himself was one of the top agents. Nick Jonas, P.I. Pretty legit.
We watched the ballet class for a while, then we sat down and got smoothies. It was like an old fashioned cafe: refreshments at the front counter with cool rotating seats, and while you ate and drank you could watch the ballet class. Nick was sitting next to me, watching me intently as we all chatted about ballet and crime and investigation and the Jonas Brothers. All of a sudden I felt his lips on mine, and that was it, I was done talking.
He was a good kisser.
I just need someone to cuddle me
11/17/11
I was in London, at least I think it was London. The streets were paved in cobblestones. Perhaps it was old-time England. I was living in a reenactment of the musical Les Miserables. It was either set in the streets and I was a part of it, or it was a movie, or a really convincing stage set. Regina Spektor was the star of the show. Though there were other cast members in this production, she sang all the musical parts. Her voice was unbelievable, so angelic and perfect that it belonged only in a dream. It was as if I could hear her soul coming out of her body, imploding with song and lights. How beautiful. The crowd, or everyone who wasn’t a cast member, watched in reverie as she performed.
After the last note was sung and the musical ended, she took a bow, smiling that lovely, charming smile she has. Everyone applauded, and then she disappeared into the sunlit morning. The cobblestones gleamed with light.
Smiling, I skipped along the street side, watching the cars go by. I could still hear the music playing, whether it was from a radio or in my head, I don’t know. I hummed along happily, looking at all the stores and shops across the road, when I saw Him, sitting on a bench all by himself. He looked as if he were waiting for someone.
Hello, you, I called, coming up behind him. It was a chilly morning, and my breath made swirls of steam in the air.
Hello back, he answered, turning around and smiling.
What are you doing? I asked, sitting down beside him. The morning sun made everything look golden.
He asked a question in return: Do you hear the music?
I nodded, pleased that I was not the only one.
It’s dancing music. But I’ve no one to dance with.
Til now, I said joyously.
He smiled, sending giddy warmth all through my body.
So I took his hand, and we danced. The music was fast, it was slow, it was unbearably beautiful, and you couldn’t help but move when you heard it. I knew it had to be a dream then, because there is no way I could have been so graceful in real life. But it was nice to enjoy it while it lasted.
1/16/11
I dreamed that I was half asleep, half crying in bed. There are few times in my life when I weep, and this was one of them…in my dream. I had just gone through another surgery, and was sick and tired of all the pain, which wasn’t supposed to be so bad in the first place. Somehow that never works out.
He came to visit me, and though I was happy to see him, I barely even said hello. I just wanted to wallow in my self pity as long as possible. He understood, and smiled anyway. He asked if he could lie down next to me, gentleman that he is, and I nodded, sniffling. Gently he wrapped his whole body around mine, nestling my weakness into his strength. His hands were warm around my stomach, almost as nice as his breath in my ear.
I showed him my new scars. So ugly, I said.
No, he answered. Necessary. Not ugly.
They hurt, I told him, feeling like a big baby.
Yes, he said. Scars will hurt either your body or your soul.
Both, I whispered.
That’s what I’m here for.
1/15/11
I dreamed he and I were sitting on a bench at the park, and he gave me a kiss I won’t be forgetting anytime soon. Then after a while he pulled back and said, As much as I care about you, I don’t think it will work out well.
I said, Stranger things have happened, my dear.
He nodded, his eyes sad. I wished I could see into his mind, and find out what he is so afraid of. Hurting me? Hurting himself? I wish I knew, so I could cast it out of his thoughts forever. Then there would be nothing left but smiles.
Now the bench was gone and we lay on the cool grass, staring up at the impossibly blue, cloudless sky. I could think of nothing but how nice it was to have absolutely nothing on my mind, and to have him right next to me.
