Dreams

I wasn't exactly an adventurous or outdoorsy kid and my favourite passtime was day dreaming. I'd dream up stories anytime I had nothing to do at home and all the time when in class. I even rememer poor attempts at short story writing where the theme always was a 10 year old girl getting lost in a jungle, being scared shitless, learning to fight animals and survive and ended with her finding a tar road and flagging down a vehicle. My heroine's name was always Anjali. As I grew older, my day dreams got more romantic. I'd have a few favourite scenarios which I'd repeat over and over with different heroes (real innocent stuff, mind u! girls don't find dirty dreams that involving) while nodding at my Physics teacher. My college day dreams were altogether more based on reality and what my immediate future might hold, but I never forgot those cherished dreams which i believed would come true once I met the right guy. Probably the influence of many idealistic romances in classics. Reality taught me some lessons though. When I was in my first and only serious relationship, I thought time would make my dreams come true. It didn't. Nowadays, I'm afraid of dreams. I find them painful. They are so dear to me and to have them all crushed hurts. I don't dream good ones anymore. It's been a rough couple of months with no end to the misery in sight. I find it terrible ironic that lately, most of my nightmares have come true, but none of my dreams ever have.