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Not Really A Nightmare

Usually, I dream of people I've seen once in my life. It's random stories not really belonging to me, and only sometimes, do I make a cameo appearance in my own dreams. It's always been this way. Once, I even watched Disney's The Jungle Book in its entirety as I slept. My dreams are just... random. There was a time in my youth when I was boy crazy; every boy, man, dude that crossed my path was carefully regarded and studied. I just really liked looking at them. As creepy as that sounds. So it follows that I would crush on several men in my lifetime. Feel the rush of seeing them, replaying our encounters like a never-ending loop. But I have fallen in love twice. A product, I'm sure, of my propensity for "boy craziness", combined with my annoying ability to form sentimental attachments to anyone who's open and earnest. And of those countless crushes and two men whom I've loved, I've only dreamed of one; but the sad thing is, my dreams unsettle me...
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About Love and Fear

Gilbert Blythe -- both the physical image of the character I conjured up the first time I read L.M. Montgomery's classic book and the character that the recently deceased Jonathan Crombie brought to life -- has always been my ideal. I've always looked for my very own Gilbert. In both the book and the adaptations, he's a steadfast friend, lover, husband, father; he's loyal to a fault; he's patient; he's ambitious and intelligent; he's kind and determined; he's compassionate and devoted; he's witty and wry. Basically, he has all the qualities I hope to find in a man . Physically, Gilbert Blythe shaped who I am attracted to. I often prefer brown haired men. I get lost in hazel eyes. I admire tall men for their poise (despite the fact I insist that I prefer short men). On Saturday night, just as I was finishing the dinner they served at Chantal and Ryan's wedding reception, I received a series of texts from Clea. She was texting to tell me th...
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leaves

She bit her bottom lip, focusing on the pain that her teeth caused on her tender flesh instead of the inadequacy she felt. Tears welled in her dark brown eyes and she could feel the knot in her throat tighten. Why? She sighed—trying to normalize her awkward breathing. Her jaw unwillingly clenched and finally, she met his gaze. She knew then that she would never see him again. Never would she hear his awkward footsteps in the morning. Creaking floorboards and rolling chairs. Never. Never. Why? His hazel eyes were dry, smiling warmly down at her. They noticed the tears and concern quickly took them over. He leaned in close. “Qu’est qu’y a?” Again, she couldn’t say anything. For months she had harboured an innocent crush on the tall boy. For months she had learned his quirks and mannerisms; loving everyone of them. She knew him better than she had ever known another guy simply due to the fact that they had shared the same roof. “Nothing,” she managed to choke… blinking the tears into obli...
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