Samantha (Stopgap)

Segmented onceafore. It worked last time. I'll just type and type and type until something pops up.

I guess I could talk about my reoccuring dreams, but I don't even know what they mean, and I dont remember all of them.

But, I've got fuckall to talk about, and this is my space. Plus, that whole "fighting T-Rex" thing has stopped happening.

I mean, I dream about my dad, but that's totally fuckin' expected.

Quick note. I dont want someone to spout about what these dreams mean. I don't know, I don't care. But I am physically elated when ever have these dreams. I'm thrilled and excited to see her. Samantha.

That's the only part of this I'm real sure on. There's a girl named Samantha. She first popped up just about a year ago, walking down the street. I was out front doing nothing, and my mom was talking with neighbors, and she just walks up. My age, with short, necklength brown hair. (Just gonna note real quick that, as much as I drone on about getting hard over redheads, they show up depressingly little in my dreams.) She walks up in...dah. I dont remember. this is one of the conflicting parts of it. Pants of some variation, maybe a t-shirt. Shirts never say anything, though. She hates that. Her face is...hard to describe, because perfect is relative, but for my likes, it's all good. Eyes arent too small, and are a brilliantly distracting hazel. Mouth looks small- at least, her lips are- but the shape of them is also rather nice. Ears are small and hidden under the hair, which is shimmering.
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She walks down the street, and we just...look at eachother. I'm watering the yard, and start drowning the planter. She's in midstride, and awestruck (obviously by my Greek-statue like physique (that's a joke to those who dont know me)), as am I. There's something real familiar about her. I feel that, in the dream, I've seen her in a dream. She hesitantly takes a step.

"John?"

I'm taken aback. I mean, havent even met the bitch and she knows my name.

"Y-yeah. Are you..."

"Samantha. You look...just as I saw you."

From there, we talk for hours about...everything and nothing, it seemed. There werent enough hours in the day to talk to her, and she was eventually dragged home by her parents.

The next time she appeared in a dream, four months later (after unsucessfully trying to force dreams of her), I somehow ended up in a dress in Tokyo on new years, at a street side vending cart which is well lit, but has no one around for mile. She walks up again, this time in a loose, red dress. Through the course of THAT dream, I had gotten over the fact that I was in the dress in Tokyo etc etc. Even made some good business, but I couldn't remember what we were selling for the life of me, but she comes walking up, and everything else just freezes. And we talk again, for a while, but not enough, ended by my stupid need to interact in a concious world. But the precident set was that, like the first dream, I was genuinely excited by her presence, as if she's some part of my subconcious trying to bust out.

That's it. I'm a pretty, modest, brilliant brunette as well as a big fat spanish swede.

Anyways, the next time she showed up was three months later. I was at the zoo. I have no idea why I was at the zoo, but I was at the zoo. One of the many cafeteria deals, and I was there alone. I see a door open up, and bamf! There she is. The feeling returns. This is one of the three times I've clearly remembered what she wore: This time, it was a bright pink t-shirt, and blue jeans. Not tight, not baggy, but...well, relatively perfect. She walks right up to me, and kisses me on the cheek, pressing against me, and whispering, and says one of the only things I remember her saying.

"Something's wrong, and it's you, my dear."

The conversation wasn't at all ugly or anything. I was in a bad mood, and she eased me out of it, and conveniently, that was when I first realized I am responsible for my old, near constant state of unhappiness. Of course, I did fuck all to change it until another conversation months later with a real life friend that set me straight, but still, that's where the seeds were planted.

The next time, I was having a lucid dream, and was on my way to having a nightmare, and I got some hobo to help me wake up. And as I did, well, she came running and yelled "wait", but my eyes were already open. I didn't see her, I just heard her yell out. Her voice is distinct like that. A foreign accent I can't pick out.

The last time it happened was two nights ago. Sunday. The dream started, and I was in a resteraunt, with her. It was WAY classier than either of us are used to, and we looked like bums amongst the upper class. But damnit, we were there. This is the third time I remembered what she wore: a tight, gray and black long sleeved shirt. I recognized it later (as in, a few hours ago) that it was something my first ex wore the first time I saw pictures of her and her not-then-but-later husband. I digress. I dont know what she's got on besides that, but I know there's more, because A) my shoes rubbed against leather, leading me to believe it was some kind of boot she had on, adn B) She's not really one to dress in suggestive manners. Feels it's above her, and I'm inclined to agree. But the conversation never dragged, and aside from me nudging her foot, we never even touched. No food came, and none of the other patrons even existed for us. It was just us. Very comforting, and that thrill was still there. The dream ended when I stood up, and helped her up. Then I was rather suddenly, and abruptly awakened. There was no need for it. It was just...snap.

I dont think writing about her will prompt her to show up again. I don't know what happens, aside from a large dose of stress. But, the last time, I wasn't stressed. If anything, I think writing about her will stop her appearances, which is a real shame, because I enjoy her company.

Yeah. That's pretty much it for now.