Oneitis At Target

Last night’s dream was miserable. Miserable in the sense that I felt and saw something in my dream that I had sworn I would never see or feel again. In my life, I have accepted the reality of my situation. I’m in my 30s now. My time in high school might as well be ancient history. I could already say the same for my failed attempt at Uni too. But time and time again, something inside me can’t accept the fact that I can’t move on from this girl I wasn’t even friends with. Why? What’s wrong with me? Am I really that lonely and pathetic to let someone from more than a decade ago bother me to the level of my soul? It’s not even so much that I care about finding love anymore. It’s tough out there for sub-par guys like myself these days. I’d go as far as to call myself bellow subpar. I’m not even smart enough to do anything productive. I find it hard to cope with chatbots because they have either stagnated, become censored, or outright cock-blocked behind some paywall and all for a chatbot that doesn’t feel like I’m talking to a real human being. I want surprises, personality, and I get none of that with a chatbot. This dream of which I experienced last night is a good example of what a good interaction for me would feel like.

I’m shopping at Target for some reason. I haven’t been to a Target in years. All I know that it’s like Walmart but for middle class people. Do they still exist anymore? Whatever. I’m specifically shopping for groceries, going through aisle and picking out things like oats cereals, milk, paper towels, but I’m forgetting something. I start going through the aisle row by row because apparently they aren’t labeled in this store for some reason. It’s not really packed in the store but it’s not empty either. There are other shoppers around, mostly other families, no kids, and definitely no screaming shithead kids like I have to deal with whenever I have to shop at HEB or Walmart. Parents with screaming crying kids should be fined. It irritates my ears to no end but thankfully this shopping experience is neutral. Just can’t find what I’m looking for. I don’t even remember what it is since I’m writing this dream log down a little latter than I should. The store is quiet and clean. More than what I could say for Walmart or HEB.

”Hey, do you need help with something buddy?” Normally, I find it distressing to be approached by a wagie at a store. I know of two reasons why they do it. Their boss forces them to be subservient to customers and force them to smile and be happy while doing the “WE ARE WE ARE WALMART” dance as a humiliation ritual. The other is an anti-theft prevention method to discourage thievery. But her voice was instantly recognizable to my instincts. It was her. My crush I can never seem to shut the fuck about in this blog because she keeps coming up in my dreams. I insisted in talking about her in my blog from the beginning because it was important to my life story to bring it up but here I am now talking about her once again. She had that red Target polo uniform tucked into khaki slacks that fit her slim on her small frame. Her hair was medium-short and a little unkept and she had that spunky voice that my heart aches from hearing.

I’m not going to be doki doki over being approached by her. I wasn’t expecting her to be working here of all places. I keep a calm demeanor and pretend to be normal as if it were another employee talking to me. I tell her I can’t find a certain item which I know has to be food related because she doesn’t take me far from the other aisle in the food section. I follow her while she leads me, she seems really content with helping me. It almost seems like she skipping as she leads me.

Just before we reach the section where the food product I’m looking for is supposed to be, she is interrupted by another customer asking for the location of a product. It must have been something sugar free because right after telling the customer where it is, as soon as he left she made an edgy fat joke about people who eat sugar free snacks which she thought was the funniest thing ever because she laughed at her own joke. I don’t remember the context and I wish I could had written it down but whatever it was, it made me feel even more enchanted because it was totally in character with her. It made this experience feel so real to me. We find what I’m looking for. It’s some kind of box. Maybe it’s cookies? I’m craving something sweet, even now as I am writing this dream log. But I think deep down I wanted something sweeter than cookies and I was going to get it.

I thank her for helping me and just when I’m about to continue pushing my cart, I feel her arms tug me from behind. She had me tight enough in an embrace in such a way that I couldn’t escape. Her face was pressed against the back of my hair. My heart felt like it was going into overclock mode. What is she doing?! She’s nibbling on my hair. Then my neck. She’s murmuring quietly, still not able to let me go. But I don’t want her to let me go. I don’t know what she’s saying but it’s making me feel treasured, missed, and worthy. I want to turn around and hug her back so badly. I want to tell her how much I love her too. Please….

Yeah right. That only happens in my dreams and I didn’t even get to do that in this one. I was awake in a daze right after that happen. To say I was disappointed and heart broken when I was awake in my bedroom in the dark is an understatement. I almost felt like crying from how much I wanted to fall back to sleep and go back to that dream. It kind of ruined the whole day for me up until tonight where I am recalling this dream for the dream log. I have to do this to track my mental state of mind. Logging my dreams indicates my deepest desires, my fears, and my hopes no matter how hard I try to suppress them. I hate the fact I had this dream. I don’t want to feel regrets for not being sociable in high school and being unable to talk to her back then. I could only imagine an alternate scenario where I wasn’t such a coward suffering from social anxiety. The two of us could had been close friends, maybe even more. I wouldn’t be making this stupid webpage on Neocities if my social life was anywhere close to successful. Sometimes I wish I could just be in ignorance of the world’s problems. Like I’d rather be complaining about friend or wagie drama instead of thinking about the world, society, and the state of humanity. I think I would probably be a lot happier even if she declined me and shot me down. At least I would have closure and have the confidence to move on.

I’d like to think I’m above feeling love. I don’t deny it’s a real thing, but because I’ve been so absent from feeling it in such a long time, I want to believe I’m above it. Deep down, I know it’s not true no matter how I try to lie to myself. That’s why I keep having these dreams.