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I haven't been writing for quite a while, eh? I am busy, yes, but I'm writing now, regardless of all my homework due tomorrow.

It's not because I'm busy that I'm not writing. It's because I feel that there's just nothing to write about lately. I've been having scarily accurate dreams lately, but isn't that normal nowadays?

Sounds a little interesting? I'll tell you what happened last week, if you'd like.

I hold a special fondness for this boy who, in previous entries and in reality, I refer to as number nine. He started off as a stranger, then became my friend, then curiosity made him my test subject, and now I like him a bit..

Anyhow, I know a lot about it. It's a tad creepy, some might say, but knowledge is a wonderful thing to have.

Last week, Sunday (exactly seven days before today), I had a dream.

In the dream, my whole class went to Chinook Mall and we were all in the food court.

In Chinook, the food court has tables EVERYWHERE, but each table is kind of small. In my dream, my class was split up in their cliques.

I don't like being contained in one social group, but my subconscious obviously didn't think so. I was with the people I was normally with in reality. As was everyone.

There were the Filipinos, the Filipinas, the... feminine girls group, the smart guys, and the school's veteran girls.

Anyway, behind me, the smart guys group was seated. Seated at that table was number nine.

Ahh, gosh, I haven't told you this yet.. I confessed to number nine already! sweatdrop For a year already, I planned to report my feelers on March 29th, which was some time ago. March 29th was the day I had a dream that made me like number nine in the first place.. Anyhow, I said, "I don't know if I like you or not, but I probably do." To that, he responded with, "...mkay." It was a weight off my shoulders and I don't regret it.

Back to the dream...

I got up from my seat and walked over to number nine. I then said, "I like you." Just like that.

First off, seriously, Lucia? You confessed in reality, and it wasn't the best experience, but why repeat it in a dream? Gah! emotion_0A0

In reality, when I confessed to him over text, I didn't see his reaction. I guess that's why my dream happened.

In my dream, when I confessed, number nine got really mad. Like, scary mad. I was scared.

It wasn't a nightmare, but it wasn't a very pleasant dream.

I went back to my table. Touching my face, I noticed a tear, which I quickly wiped away.

And then.. I sat back at my table. My friends didn't know what I just did, and yet one asked, "Are you okay, Lucia?"

I looked down and noticed a small puddle of tears forming beneath my face. I was crying AGAIN. But why? I still don't know.

I wiped my tears once more and found that I couldn't stop crying.

Stupid Lucia. I'm so stupid. To clarify, I was completely conscious that I didn't feel my face when I wiped it. Ding, ding, ding! Lucia! WAKE UP, DOOFUS. Second, tears can't CONTINUOUSLY fall when you're me. I should have known I was dreaming by now.

Anyway, realizing that I couldn't stop my tears, I ran to the washroom. Of course, I had to pass number nine's table to get there, and I did. I didn't even care, really. Well, not until my academic rival called out, "Ha! She really does like you!"

Okay, what? Just because tears fall, it meant I was telling the truth? Why would I lie about something when it's called a CONFESSION.

So I got pissed and hurried to the washroom.

I don't remember what happened next, but suddenly, everyone was leaving.

As a habit, I walk home with number nine. From school. Not from Chinook.

Although, I have been with number nine to Chinook before. Meh. We were on friendly terms back then.

Anyhow, in the dream, I was following RIGHT behind number nine. He seemed pretty annoyed.

And.. and it was so quiet.

I tried started a conversation several times, but to no avail.

When the absurdity of the situation kicked in my brain, I quickly took note of his attire.

Blue dress shirt, jeans.

And then I awoke, because I realized I was asleep.

I did some thinking after I was awake. I confessed to number nine in the dream, which means it must have been March 29th, right? Wrong. I found it weird because I confessed to number nine PRIOR to the dream, so it had to be the next time I saw number nine, which was April 8th, the following day.

Because I wanted proof, I made a Word document as quickly as I could manage. In the document, I said that number nine would be wearing his blue dress shirt on April 8th.

So the day came, April 8th, and guess what? Number nine was wearing his blue shirt! I felt so proud of myself for being right! emotion_yatta

And then reality sunk in and I figured, there's no way that dream was right ONLY about his outfit.

Sure enough, number nine acted like he did in my dream. Avoiding me anytime possible, neglecting conversation attempts, turning his back.

We weren't... We aren't even friends anymore.

And I know, I should be sad about this, and I should accept the comfort of others, but I'm not doing either. Somehow, my brain felt like it was living an "I told you so" moment. And, for all I knew, it was. My subconscious had been right.

So I treated him just as coldly and found that it was easy.

Easy to ignore him.
Easy to reject his presence.
Easy to forget.

Actually, I lied. I can't forget, but it doesn't bother me much. I'm still super psyched about how I guessed his shirt right. emotion_awesome

I probably told you this already, but he has a scent. It's a pleasant scent and it comforts me whenever I smell it. I know that sounds weird. It IS weird, but the truth can be weird sometimes.

Whenever he passes by, or whenever I pass by something of his, I sense his scent. I don't even have to look. His scent is there.

It's hard to explain considering no one else seems to be able to smell it. Only me.

It's nice to know that I'm so close to him that I can sense him without sight, but it's useless.

So what? I mean, honestly! My fondness often comes and goes. Usually, if I liked a guy, I let the feeling pass.

The feeling does pass. I hate it and like it.

I hate it because it only proves how much I didn't like the person in the first place. Like, being unfaithful is NOT liking someone.

I like it because it releases me from the burdens of boys. A massive relief, really.

In the case with number nine, I actually DID something, and I'm experiencing new emotions. It's rather exciting for someone as emotionless as I often am.

What is it, jealousy? Lust? Longing? Hatred?

I don't even know.



Today's lyrics are:
Always, I know
You'll be at my show
Watching, waiting, commiserating

Thanks for reading guys. I know I'm not the most exciting person there is out there. Heck, chances are nobody even reads my journal, but it's a load off my mind. You can't just keep it bottled up inside forever. emotion_bandaid

Oh, and if you haven't read my other entries, the lyrics thing is like.. a self-promoting thing. Comment the song's artist and title and a reward shall be granted!

Until next time, then! Goodnight, world! yum_puddi