A Bad Dream and Some Stoners
Early this morning I had a nightmare and woke up almost in tears.
I reached for Kyle, called his name, and, miracle! he was there next to me. He put his arms around me and kissed my forehead until I almost fell asleep again. Then the alarm went off. It was 4:45. He didn't go to work until I promised I was really alright, like, five times.
The nightmare was about him. I had introduced him to my mom and somehow he and I forgot she was in the room and we were having sex until I moaned and suddenly we remembered and stopped and tried to cover it up. He got up off the bed to avoid the awkward situation, and my mom flopped down between me and the wall, where he'd been. Then she gave me a nasty speech that sounded like her at her worst, her most cynical and mean and vulgar. She was saying that she and her friends made mischief in wholesome ways when they were young-- that climbing the fence to the town pool and dancing in the middle of the night were what real memories are made of. She said that I was wasting my time fucking these worthless boys and that maybe if I wasn't being such a slut I'd have more close friends in the same town. I woke up when in my dream her hand accidentally brushed my leg and I cringed from it.
It was a terrible dream. I was so wonderfully comforted to have Kyle there. Sometimes I get a little bit scared. The last time I felt like this was after I ran into George at that soccer game.
I don't feel guilty for any of the things I've done with boys, but it bothers me a lot the way my subconcious is screaming at me. I know my mom would love Kyle-- the mom in my dream wasn't HER, it was the part of me that has adopted some of her values. I guess I do feel a little lonely in the way of friends. For me it's been Hadley alone and whatever boy toy friends for longer than I care to admit. I do feel like I'm missing out. In my imagination I could have been dancing on the lawn at 2 AM with my friends instead of sordidly grappling with some boy I didn't care about and finding my way home at 8 the next morning after saying "thanks". In real life, the friend point is moot-- I tend to be alone; and the obscene tableaus have not been that numerous, frequent, emotionally void, or obscene.
I met a cute stoner with dreadlocks on the bus and took him and his friend to dinner at O-Hill. Fuckin' good-natured friendly kids who dont do anything but party and maybe go to work sometimes. We ate with this guy who's lived all over the world. Preston, Kevin, Danu, named in order of appearance. Preston reminded me of Keith Sexton pretty hardcore. He and Kevin "don't do handshakes". They like hugs.
I reached for Kyle, called his name, and, miracle! he was there next to me. He put his arms around me and kissed my forehead until I almost fell asleep again. Then the alarm went off. It was 4:45. He didn't go to work until I promised I was really alright, like, five times.
The nightmare was about him. I had introduced him to my mom and somehow he and I forgot she was in the room and we were having sex until I moaned and suddenly we remembered and stopped and tried to cover it up. He got up off the bed to avoid the awkward situation, and my mom flopped down between me and the wall, where he'd been. Then she gave me a nasty speech that sounded like her at her worst, her most cynical and mean and vulgar. She was saying that she and her friends made mischief in wholesome ways when they were young-- that climbing the fence to the town pool and dancing in the middle of the night were what real memories are made of. She said that I was wasting my time fucking these worthless boys and that maybe if I wasn't being such a slut I'd have more close friends in the same town. I woke up when in my dream her hand accidentally brushed my leg and I cringed from it.
It was a terrible dream. I was so wonderfully comforted to have Kyle there. Sometimes I get a little bit scared. The last time I felt like this was after I ran into George at that soccer game.
I don't feel guilty for any of the things I've done with boys, but it bothers me a lot the way my subconcious is screaming at me. I know my mom would love Kyle-- the mom in my dream wasn't HER, it was the part of me that has adopted some of her values. I guess I do feel a little lonely in the way of friends. For me it's been Hadley alone and whatever boy toy friends for longer than I care to admit. I do feel like I'm missing out. In my imagination I could have been dancing on the lawn at 2 AM with my friends instead of sordidly grappling with some boy I didn't care about and finding my way home at 8 the next morning after saying "thanks". In real life, the friend point is moot-- I tend to be alone; and the obscene tableaus have not been that numerous, frequent, emotionally void, or obscene.
I met a cute stoner with dreadlocks on the bus and took him and his friend to dinner at O-Hill. Fuckin' good-natured friendly kids who dont do anything but party and maybe go to work sometimes. We ate with this guy who's lived all over the world. Preston, Kevin, Danu, named in order of appearance. Preston reminded me of Keith Sexton pretty hardcore. He and Kevin "don't do handshakes". They like hugs.