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

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

I dream about doing a lot of things in my life. I dream about having a bakery, a place I go to every morning at 3am to start baking breads and muffins, and all things yummy. I dream of becoming a published writer, writing novels, and articles, and children’s books. I dream of traveling to Italy, Norway, Australia, and many other places. And I dream of getting married someday soon, having a family of my own. I’ve always wanted a lot of kids, but I’m getting older now, and don’t know how feasible it’ll be to have lots of them, so maybe just a couple. I don’t know, but I dream about it, about being a Mom. And about owning a business, and doing what makes me happy in life. Fortunately for me, there are a lot of things that make me happy in life. I’m passionate about several different arts and crafts, and I love people. I love talking to them, learning about them, helping them when they need it, and befriending them. I love being needed by people too. It makes me feel important, like I can help somebody. I think it’s so important to me because of how hopeless I feel about helping Scott. I don’t know, maybe I just think too much.

I have other dreams too, the regular kind you have while sleeping. Lately they have been strange, unsettling. A lot of people from my past have popped up, people who I don’t care to see again, ever. But there they are, in my dream. Otherwise, I haven’t even thought of them in real life, so why am I dreaming about them? I’ll never understand dreams like that. It just doesn’t make any sense. Why can’t sleep just be sleep? Why do I have to think of crazy bad things while I sleep? There’s enough running through my head during the day, enough to kill a horse. I don’t want to think about bad things when I dream anymore. But I guess it doesn’t work that way.

I dream about me and Scott going places together. About him having a family, and inviting me over for a barbecue. I dream that he’s normal-sized, though I don’t even remember a time when he was even close. I have to imagine the whole scenario, make it up. But I can see it, I can see the day when he can put his arms around me, and I can put my arms around him. I can see the day that we don’t have to worry about how to get somewhere or where he’s going to sit when we get there. I can see the day when he isn’t on pain pills, and has a smile on his face most of the time. I can see him healthy. I dream about that all the time. I want that for him so bad, for him to have a normal life, to be able to have his own dreams again, real ones, reachable ones.

And I dream about Mom being happy. Happy with her life, enough so that she decides to embark on new adventures, or find herself a new man. She’s a beautiful person with a spectacular mind. She’s amazingly talented at writing, and so much more. She is the best friend anyone could ask for, and I know she wants to do something besides take care of Scott. But at the moment she won’t allow herself to even think of it. Someday, I dream that she will be happy. That she will dream again too. That she will live the life she deserves. That Scott and I both will make her proud. That she’ll leave behind her guilt. And that she’ll do what she wants to do, once and for all, for herself.