Tuesday, December 1, 2009

NaNoWriMo, Scott's Story, Chapter Forty-One - In Scott's Eyes

Chapter Forty-One – Dreams – In Scott’s Eyes
2009, Present Day – Mom is 60, I am 35, Julie is 32

I had a dream this afternoon that I was dead. But I was a skinny dead person. It was really weird, and I woke up sweating. But I’m glad I was skinny at least. I don’t want to be a fat dead person. I don’t want to be fat in heaven either. I hope it doesn’t work that way. I dreamt I was floating over my old grade school in Salem. I saw all my old friends on the playground, but I couldn’t stop and play with them. They couldn’t see me, or hear me call their names. It was a shitty dream, really. Except the skinny part.

Most days I dream that I become thin, that I can move around with ease, that I am living on my own, taking care of myself, and living a normal life. I dream about going places and doing things I’ve only read about or seen on t.v. I want to travel, and see things, and meet regular people. The friends I have are losers. I don’t even like them, but I feel like they’re the only friends I have, so it’s better to have loser friends than none at all. But most days I can’t stand them. And don’t want to see or talk to them, but I do anyway, because I don’t want to be a bad friend to anybody, even losers. I’m bad at enough things, friendship doesn’t have to be one of them.

I dream about Julie becoming a mom. I know she really wants that someday, and she’s not getting any younger. So, I hope she gets it. I hope she finds a good man, and falls in love, has a couple of babies, and lives happily ever after. I wonder sometimes why she hasn’t done that yet. I hope beyond hope that it’s not because of me. She’s put a lot of her life on hold because of me, and if that’s one of the things she’s given up to take care of me, I’ll never forgive myself. I think we actually had this conversation a few years ago, and she assured me that I wasn’t the reason, that she just hadn’t found her true love yet. But I’m not entirely convinced. Especially because she tells me now that she is thinking about coming home to take care of me again. Leaving Las Vegas…for me. I can’t let her do that, I just won’t. That’s the last thing I want. And she’s really doing well there, I can’t take that away from her. But I guess I can’t really stop her either. I’ll be really pissed off though, if she comes back. As much as we probably need her, as much as I need her, I don’t want her here. She deserves to have a life. And so does my Mom, and so do I, for that matter.

I dream for my Mom to live her life to the fullest while she can. But she’s so tired all the time, and in pain too, I worry about her. I don’t know if she’s ever going to get better either. And with the stress I cause her, and the stress of her job, I’m afraid she’ll never have the energy to do the things SHE wants to do. But I dream that she finds a cabin to buy, way up in the woods somewhere, filled up with books to read, and with lots of windows for her to look out of while she’s writing her own. I dream that she’ll be able to travel again too. I know she wants to go back to New Orleans, she really loved it there. And she’s been wanting to go help them somehow after the hurricane. They still need help, and she still wants to go, so I dream that one day it’ll be possible for her. Mostly, I dream that she feels better, and is able to live a very long life. But I’m not sure how that will turn out if I die. I don’t know if she’ll break down, or if she’ll fly free. And the sad part is, either way, I’ll be dead.

I dream that one day, I won’t think about dying so much. That I will be so consumed with living, that the thought of death will only enter my head when I’m in reverie about the loved ones I’ve lost. That it won’t have anything to do with me, or Julie, or Mom. I dream that at some point, this nightmare will be over, or that one day soon, I’ll wake up thin. Just wake up that way. And be done with it. I fantasize about buying clothes in a regular store, going in a store at all, without being stared and pointed at. I wonder if I’ll always be looking over my shoulder as a result of being a huge man. If I’ll always be leery of people. If I’ll ever trust anyone fully again, outside of my family.

I dream that I could turn back time, to before I was really fat. And do it all over again. Knowing what I do now, about my body, about my mind, I dream that I had another chance. And in that dream, I turn out happy.

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