Earlier today, before I gained full consciousness, I was happy.
Utterly, unmistakably, over-the-moon happy.
All because of a dream. I can only remember one detail of my dream: I was dating Mr. Athlete and it quite possibly could have been a sex dream -- well not in the case that that's all I dreamt of. There were other things. I feel like there were sun and blue skies in my dream. Whatever exactly went down between myself and my dream guy, I was the happiest I've ever felt.
Except possibly when I dream about being pregnant.
The point is I would sleep forever if I could keep having those dreams that made me feel that way.
It's impossible to even convey in words just how happy I felt. It was like I was filled with hot air, but like a sweet hot air. It's like I was filled with cotton candy -- yes, like my heart had been wrapped in cotton candy.
There's hardly a thing I wouldn't do if it could make me feel that way all the time.
Then again, I know better than to believe that I could ever be that happy and not put an end to it myself if outside forces didn't conspire against my happiness. It's human nature. I think as much as I sometimes think others are out to make me miserable, the fact of the matter is, I am. Even if it's subconsciously.
Other than this dream, there's one other big thing on my mind. It's something I realized yesterday and which I think is a perfect example of something I've been thinking about for the past couple of days.
I'm not quite as unhappy when I'm by myself as I come off in conversations with others (even though I'm never as happy as when I'm dreaming). Honestly, I feel like the people I talk to the most are usually bitching about something -- I do not dare invalidate their anger or frustration but the problem is its affect on my mood. No matter how content or satisfied I may feel when I'm alone, there are certain people I can't talk to without complaining.
One of these people is my mother. I feel like 90% of what I share with her is my anger or frustration with something. And while she'll tell me I need to get happy, like today when I told her I've never felt happier than during that dream this morning, the times when I try to share something positive, she'll find something negative to say about it. Of course, an example escapes me at the moment.
But I'm really tired of this melodramatic crap that so many of us pull when attempting to socialize.
Why do these people do it? Why do I do it?
Is it because these people don't want to see me happy while they're upset or because I don't want to be happy when they're upset? Am I sacrificing my own inner peace in an attempt to lighten the emotional load of my companion? Is that really my job anyway?
Can it really be the case that we could all be happy if it weren't for others pulling -- or pushing -- us down?
I think the dream is the perfect proof that "yes" is the answer to this question. In my dreams, anything can make me happy whether or not others would deem in wrong in the real world.
Take my dreams about being pregnant for instance. For some reason, I've had a lot of dreams lately where I'm pregnant. And, next to the dream I had this morning, they're the happiest dreams I've ever had. If I were actually pregnant, the outside world would make me upset about being pregnant. I'd be told that at 18 I shouldn't have a kid, it'll ruin my life. But when I'm dreaming, no one can stop me.
Even when I told my mom about the kinds of dreams that make me happiest, she said "I worry about you."
Who the fuck are you to tell me what can and can't make me happy? Who am I to do that to you?
Well, all of this thinking is giving me a headache. I do declare it's bedtime for me.
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