Fear

I can’t sleep. I’m afraid. For some reason, I am afraid of having the nightmare I shared with everyone a few entries ago. And also I feel that if I did have the dream tonight, I feel he would come from my closet rather than the front door. It’s amazing that I am awake not because I had a bad dream, but rather because I am afraid that I may have it. It’s been about once a month recently. And February is a new month. =(

I remember once, way back in 2001… My girlfriend Janice called me at like 2 in the morning, because she had had a bad dream. The emotions she described in her, and the ones that I could hear over the phone were so unsettling. I drove out to her place (30 minute drive) and we hung out.

We took a late night walk around the nearby lake (Lake Olivia). We talked about everything and anything. Back then our life was composed of school, work (Publix Grocery Store), families, and friends. It’s funny how life always seems to be full of drama… yet I look back on those days and that was nothing. I wonder (and hope) if I’ll ever feel that way about my problems today?

It was cold out. A few days before Thanksgiving? Or maybe a few days after… So we went back inside her house (We both still lived with our parents). We laid down together in her bed. We were both so tired, she told me not to leave her. I told her I never would.

We both fell asleep. I woke up and she was laying on me. Her head on my chest. I never felt so content in my life. So useful, loved, and wanted. It was as if I lived my whole life just trying to earn that moment. And honestly, it was worth it.

And I remember wanting to destroy the world and everyone and everything in it when I held her in my arms as she cried. What kind of world did we live in that could make her cry?

And I remember when the reverse happened. I don’t like to cry. Especially not in front of other people. But my Aunt Judy called and told us that Grandma (vegetable) was not long for this world. So I told my work that I had to take some days off, because she was probably gonna die soon… And Janice decided she was needed, so she came with me.

I’ve never known any of my grandparents. They all died or became vegetables before my time. But it was a painful experience, to lose someone, knowing that this confirms that I would never get to know this person. And my poor, poor Dad. He was taking his mother’s death so hard. It definetly got to me. Without a word I walked out of the hospital room and into the nearest restroom I could find. And I could feel myself just losing it. And within seconds, Janice came in after me. I was too choked with tears to speak, I could only hug her and just cry.

So many fond memories are associated with her. We dated for 1 year exactly. I’d have to say 75% of all the good memories in my life are due to her. Every single one of you readers can thank her for turning me into the person that I am today.

All so long ago, but I still cherish those memories. Why is it that we have such a hard time remembering good dreams, yet so easily the bad ones haunt us? You never see me get up at 3 AM and write “Dear OD, I had a great dream and I thought I’d share it”… It’s always “Nightmares this, Nightmares that”. Surely other people notice the same thing? It’s fucked up.

This whole fucking world sucks. It’s amazing how shitty some parts of this planet can be, while other parts of it can be fantastic. Why some children never make it past 5, living life without food, water, electricity, having never heard the name Jesus before they die… and then we have countries like mine where not only do we have these things and know the name Jesus — we’re busy kicking Him out of our lives. The difference is really amazing.

<sigh> I’m just putting off sleep with this entry. You know, Janice use to read my OD. Maybe she still does. Maybe she secretly keeps tabs on her old boyfriend Bruce. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part. She left me for another man years ago… and my only consolation is that she is still with that man today.

Cynthia also once read this OD. But I doubt she still does. I have a feeling she wants Bruce out of her life. It takes her about a month to reply to an email from me. I don’t blame her. We’ve had nothing but a falling out.

Nicki does not know about this OD. And I’m glad. It gives me more freedom to vent. Not like she would care though. I’m beginning to see that now. She’s too fickle. She may be interested one minute, but as if she had A.D.D. she’s off on some other interest the next. I worry about her, sometimes. She needs some serious stability. In some ways, I think the air force would be good for her, but in other ways, I don’t even know if she can hack it (The Basic portion). I hope she can.

Still. I worry. Another thing only I seem to do.

Don’t you hate it when you look at someone, and it’s so obvious by the way they appear, by the look in their eyes, that there is a deep sadness about them? You can almost see their tears? I hate seeing people suffer. It kills me when someone’s inner pain is manifesting itself outwardly… I try to reach out to help them, and they tell me it’s nothing. Not to worry about it. Or worse… I “wouldn’t understand”. Ha.

Well it’s time to face the music. I’m going to bed. If I have a bad dream, then I have a bad dream. The worst that will happen is I’ll miss out on a lot of sleep tonight. G’night. =(

~Bruce