I had a horrible, terrible dream last night. My last blog, that I think I wrote, I was pretty drunk, but I believe I've told you already about Carl and I. How it's over. And it's good, and I'm glad...mostly. But after my dream last night, boy, as good as I am at faking comfort, it still can hurt me.
In my dream he fucked another girl. Not his fiance, but another girl who was a mistress. When I came in the room they were finishing, I punched him in the face, and told her it's not her fault. She just smirked and told me he needed a real girl that wouldn't become attached and left. Fucking bitch. I whooped his ass, slapping and punching him in the face whilst yelling at him. It was just awful. I still feel terrible, as though he had chosen someone else over me. In the dream I left with a pretty good quip, though. One thing between he and I and our "relationship" was how a lot of what we did were firsts. So, in the dream, playing off of that I said, "Hey, you were the first person I ever punched in the face. Thanks."
The New Kids on the Block are reuniting. Perhaps I'll talk about that at another time when I'm less depressed. I was happy about it yesterday.
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