Last week I woke a wee bit on the pissy side. Because of a dream. I was also very confused as to why my subconscious did what it did. I'm still clueless because it refuses to let me in on it's sick little joke.
Nothing bad happened in the dream, but there was a guy there. A guy I loathed. Since grade school. A true ass-hat before the phrase was ever coined.
What's worse was that in the dream, he wasn't the ass-hat that I know. He was a relatively nice guy. Which made me even more mad that my subconscious would try to trip me up.
Okay, I'm not saying he's not a nice guy now, but I don't give a shit. I don't like him. At. All. Never have.
We first met somewhere in Elementary school in Redding. I don't remember much, just that he was a little jerk. Just like most boys in that age range. I think he moved before I did. I don't remember. I really tried to just believe he didn't exist. My parents and I moved after my 7th grade year was up, putting me in a new school for my 8th grade year.
And there he was. Still an ass-hat. As were a couple of other people I'd thought I'd gotten rid of because they'd moved before me.
Again, I just went about my business as if he didn't exist because I didn't like him.
I think it was my freshman year when I nearly punched his lights out. On the school bus. My fist stopped about an inch from his face, and there was fear in his eyes. He was probably afraid of his reputation - I mean, how would it look to get a black eye or broken nose from a girl in front of a bunch of his friends? Bad. Real bad.
I'm not sure what stopped my fist. But when I finished having my say, I looked up at the bus driver and her eyes were on me. I sat down and endured the ride home.
Why did I nearly hit him? He touched me. Not anything horrible or perverted, but I didn't want his slimy ass-hat fingers on my belongings let alone me. And considering he ignored my "take your fucking hands off me" line, I had no choice but to put the fear in his eyes. Oddly enough, for the next 4 years he never touched me, and I'm pretty sure he never spoke to me again, which was perfectly fine with me. He would give me "looks" as we passed between classes once in awhile and I'd either ignore him or if I was feeling particularly sassy, I'd flip him the bird.
So what the hell was my subconscious thinking putting this ass-hat into a dream of mine? Albeit a weird dream - quite weird in fact. I don't remember many of the details now, but a few things still stick in my mind. I mean, I know dreams are typically weird. And I've had stranger, weirder dreams. I've had nightmares where I wake up hyperventilating with silent tears streaming down my cheeks. Luckily the latter are extremely rare. But why would my brain pick some guy I haven't seen since graduation, never think of, and don't care anything about?
Not a clue. But I hope it doesn't happen again anytime soon.
