Disclaimer: characters are not mine, but everything else, except for a few, or one, Bridget Jones type reference.
Authors note: at the bottom of the story. And I kind of would also like to apologize for the low quality of this small ficlet.
January 16, 2004
6:00 am
I had a dream last night.
This was a stranger dream than usual.
Do people usually have such strong feelings in dreams? This is the first time I have had this kind of dream.
Here's what it taught me:
It taught me what it is like to be in love. It sounds mushy, but it really wasn't. Can you trust me? Probably not.
Except that is not exactly what I mean.
It showed me what it was to be in love. It gave me words for what I've felt in the past, and basically spelled out, in capital letters, "This, Donna, is love."
I don't think my subconscious trusts my own judgment.
My subconscious is getting sly. Cleverer at dealing with me.
First it establishes that I am dancing with a man. He's slightly taller than me.
Then, it makes me feel strange about this guy. It makes me feel comfortable with him, but there's the other feeling, that says, I absolutely, positively, love you. It was such a tangible feeling, and it was in every part of me, I could hardly contain it. It wasn't passion—that's so flighty. In my dream, we talk, and I ache on the inside. Not a bad ache, but a yearning to be closer. I had this need to be closer.
In my dream I saw myself dancing, at the same time as being the dancer.
I wanted to kiss him so badly. I imagined tilting my head all the way up, and kissing. Not an unpleasant experience at all. No awkward feelings, no chapped lips, not even thinking about it, the whole point of kissing was to be closer with him, and kissing was nice. Just me needing to kiss him. And he definitely returned the feelings, I didn't even have to be nervous about the way I looked, as I was omnipotent in my dream, I knew he loved me and didn't care about my looks, at least, he thought I was beautiful. We were there, dancing, but we weren't kissing. All his friends were watching.
We couldn't kiss.
I led him out of the room, loving holding his hand, then, in my dream it was the next day. Other people came, I was in a dark room, but I was desperately searching for my guy. When the other people were there, they recognized me, and I tried to speak coherently with them, but I was so worried that I would never see him again. They were teasing me, two other guys, but I felt so miserable and hopeful at the same time that I was just about to die.
Then he came, and everything was okay. We both just lit up, and we just were together, and I was just, entirely, completely, body and soul, in love with him.
Now, why did my subconscious decide to make me have these feelings in a dream?—dreams are supposed to be weird, cool, or scary. This was logical, and realistic. Except, not realistic. No guy has ever looked at me that way, or inspired that thing in me to that same extent. Yet it was so, bloody obvious that I was in love. It's never been so bloody obvious to that extent before. And I can still remember the feeling clearly, if not the details.
I'm still a singleton though.
Alright. I just went to the kitchen and had a cup of hot chocolate. Then I was going to go to work.
But then, like a fly drawn to the light, I was drawn back to this diary. I lied, and I feel guilty for trying to leave it at that.
Maybe I am blind. Maybe I'm in denial. So what if I have those same feelings that I felt in the dream?
It's a love hate relationship, being in love.
You don't want to stop, but if it makes you so anxious, worried, and causes so much pain so often, wouldn't you be better off without it?
But that doesn't happen, and I don't want it to happen.
Because maybe I am in love, and that's that.
I would like to stop being love, it would simplify my life enormously, but at the same time, it would be terrible.
It doesn't matter, I don't think I have control over it anyway.
I can't say anything about this in real life. I'm trapped-and I can't do anything about.
I'm not obsessed, and I've been getting along pretty well. I haven't said a word before. And I'm not freaking out like I was in that dream, (but there were times in the past that I did feel exactly the same, oh… It can be so painful—I thought he would die, and it wasn't so much that I would never admit how I felt, it was that he would die, and I would die from sorrow when he died--)
My subconscious is just trying to torture me. It knows I can't do anything about this whole being in love thing. However, it just… SHOUTED at my heart, or whatever it is, actually, it shouted at my brain, and in bold letters told me, showed me, made me feel and put a label to what I was feeling, "Hey, you, Donna. This is L-O-V-E. Just so you know, my silly little friend!"
Which of course, my devious subconscious knew I would recognize once I had awakened.
Although I've denied it for awhile, which has made everything easier to handle, now I am admitting it. I am in love with him, Josh. Strange, unlikely, (at least, I feel like it's unlikely,) but it's the truth.
I have, horribly, entirely, and desperately fallen in love with him. And I think I just realized it.
Stupid, stupid subconscious.
I really didn't want to know.
I just had a muffin.
Alright, I lied there again, (not about the muffin, about what I said before that.) I think it's impossible to have been totally ignorant of my own feelings.
Maybe I just invented that feeling of being in love, (my subconscious, I mean,) maybe those feelings in the dream and that I have for Josh were—aha—here it is, the equivalent of a simple crush. Because he is unattainable, I have fallen for him, but it's just a crush.
I will soon get over it, especially now that, I have supposedly admitted it, (and I'm going to just ignore that I've known Josh for longer than 4 years,) that I am in love—I am going to run into a dashing republican, or, democrat, who I will feel stronger for, and I will be like, "Ah! That stupid dream, those silly feelings for Josh—just a crush. A teenage crush."
Right?
I am a maniac, and I know I sound like a mess. So let me clarify the way things are, I am sitting, calmly, at my kitchen table, dressed for work, hair brushed, clothes neat, and writing. I am the picture of inner poise. Please, I know I am going to re-read this and think I am a madwoman. It is not so.
Entonces, (that's all I got from Spanish class in High School, en suite, is more my style) I will end this rant soon.
That dream—felt exactly like I feel with Josh—I'm admitting a lot here, so don't laugh—and when we dance at parties, or we're together late at night, I just have this need to be beside him, and I want to kiss him, and I can't. I've got this good denial thing going—or I did. And that helps, incredibly so. It makes me able to stay with him late at night, and not do anything. Plus, we can't be together. Bad press. Extremely bad press. Very bad things will happen if CJ and the very nosy republican press found out.
So. Subconscious, estas happy? You have just made me admit it, and my life will be miserable until I stop being in love. And then, as falling out of love always is, I will be sad. And what if I never find anyone else who I love so much? I certainly did not love Dr. Freeride in the same way that I felt for that dream-guy and I feel for Josh. There the kisses were more anxious, I felt more like I was a… a possession. I still stood up on tippy toes to kiss him, like I imagined myself doing in the dream, and like I've felt like doing with Josh, but it was because I was supposed to. It was my duty—being in love was a duty.
Then again, I've never dated Josh, or done the whole going out process. Maybe all of that takes away. Maybe I just need to kiss him, and then quit. Or wait. Or…
Just ask him, to make sure I'm not wrong, and that he actually returns my feelings. I mean, sometimes I think, there's a possibility he likes me… Then he goes off the walls for Amy, or Joey, and I'm back to the assistant creature role.
Oh yea. Isn't that also just sound bad? I'm an assistant. There are so many crappy love books about, "Dashing young Dr. Lala can't help deny his feelings for his sexy assistant Lulu, and the feeling is returned, but she has a secret—" and I absolutely, do not want to be part of a romance novel. Then again, I shouldn't worry, cause Josh positively is in love with Amy. Well. Maybe.
Okay. 7:00 now. Really need to go to work.
END..
OR:
TBC. Depends on the reviews on this not so carefully written-rant-style-diary entry. There are only a few Bridget Jones phrases—I normally write a bit like Bridget myself in my diary, so I couldn't help but use singleton. Donna is not mine. Neither is Josh. The dream is mine. Well not really mine. I made it up—or did I? I shan't tell!
Ps: You know who's hot? Colin Firth, that's who. Mr. Darcy, Mr. Darcy, and so is the guy in Donna's dream, for her, he's no match for Josh, and for me, he's no match for Mr. Darcy.
I am the maniac.