The store was large. My back was pressed against a seven foot stack of maroon colored boxes. The details of the product escape my memory because my focus was on the one from whom I was running. My chest was heaving as I tried to quiet my frantic breathing and slowly peered around the corner of the boxes to my right. A glance down the well lit aisle showed an empty space at the end where it opened into a main perpendicular aisle.
I quickly moved my head back straight and pressed more against the boxes, closing my eyes for a moment as I breathed. Maybe he had not seen me stop here, or come down this aisle. I tried to recollect my confused thoughts from this cat and mouse game we had been playing and started to take a chance peek to my left when he stepped around the stack of boxes from that very direction and looked at me.
My breath caught and held as I looked at him, body immovable against the nondescript maroon boxes. He was dressed in a modern suit without a tie. He looked absolutely fantastic. He smiled that small smile that was so well known and said something that my brain did not process except as "Caught ya". Body like dried cement, I could only feel the combined rush of apprehension and excitement.
That smile still playing across his lips, he stepped closer to me, reaching with one hand to cup my chin and the other to smooth across the crown of my head. A breath of realization hit me as he swooped to press his lips against mine, locking me into a kiss. Exhilaration does not begin to describe the intensity of feeling. No longer immobile, my hands grasped his shoulders on their own accord pulling him more into the kiss.
That was the only encouragement he needed to envelope me in his arms and deepen the kiss, daring to be French and begin a dance of tongues. As much as I wanted to melt and lose myself in that kiss, a warning bell went off in my head that the game was not over. Or it could not be over so something must be done.
It took every fiber in my being to pull away from the kiss as I pushed out of his arms. A unconvincing no escaping my lips as I half-heartedly shook my head and backed away from him. He looked bemused. He too knew the game must go on but was still arrogantly confident that he would win.
I turned and ran.
That is just a small sample of the dream I had last night. It was absolutely fantastic. It was strange, and freakishly weird at times, as are most of my dreams, but I love them! My imagination amazes me almost every night. I can honestly say I don't remember the last time I had a bad dream. Now when I say bad I mean a dream that I did not like. I have sad dreams, I have scary dreams, I have dreams that I wake up and my cheeks are wet from sobbing in real along with when I was sobbing in the dream but ...I love them...absolutely love everyone of them.
All of my dreams can be described as weird, but some can only be described as absolutely bizarre.
The greatest thing is that I can remember 98% of my dreams. I still remember dreams I had back in elementary school. Sometimes I will be dreaming and then realize, in the dream, that part of this current dream is from a past dream!
There is only one problem with this....I often like my dreams way more than reality. Take the snippet from above that I had last night. He...was Bruce Willis! Swoon!
Now let's take a look at this for a moment:
Reality: There is no way that I will ever meet Bruce Willis much less have him kiss me!
Illusion/Dream: He was all about me! Though I don't fully understand the cat and mouse game we were playing I was enjoying it immensely and so was he. This would never happen in real life!
Now all of this said here is the true situation: I think there is something wrong with me.
Reality: I have a loving family who I would never trade for the world and should thank God multiple times for everyday. I have my health, which except for hayfever, really is great. I have a job, though I don't like it, I still have a job which pays the rent for my nice apt., the payment for my car that runs, and the bill for my air conditioning, food, clothes, and everything that spoils me and Mr. Kitty. I have a loving boyfriend who thinks I am sexy no matter what I look like and no matter in what mood I am. Plus I have great friends. All in all I have a very blessed life in which I should never complain.
Despite all this I find my dreams, movies, books, and fantasy so much more alluring. In my fictional worlds, Bruce Willis kisses me, I live in penthouses, I can skateboard like nobody's business, I am a secret spy, I always have the prefect body and look for whatever situation I am in (and that doesn't always mean supermodel look), and I explore nasty, creepy places.
I find myself waking from a bizarre dream that had me crying and scared but wanting to go back because to me it is far better then the drudge of getting up and going to work.
I read a book and get so caught up into the story and chars that it takes me forever to not feel "disconnected" from reality. The same thing with movies. As a child I played with my imagination constantly, I was Maid Marion in Robin Hood except I could shoot a bow and arrow just as well. Prince John would lock me up and I would have to escape and continue with my adventures. In highschool, I became addicted to roleplaying games online because it was yet another fantasy world where I could escape.
But escape from what? Why do I want to escape? I have a good life. It is not like I am abused, or ill, or have a hard knock life.
That is what bothers me the most. Why do I prefer this fantasy world with its bizarre things, and not all good, to my good reality life?
Am I the only one like this?