Wildest Dreams

Thomas always says that I'm "too superstitious" or that I "think too much". He cracks even more jokes when I tell him about the dreams that I have. Sometimes they get pretty wild and sometimes I feel like they have a message behind them. Honestly, this Celexa might be causing me to have outrageously vivid dreams. Hell, sometimes I even have full blown conversations with him while I'm asleep. It's some of the craziest stuff I've ever experienced. I didn't realize that antidepressants come with so many side effects. Sure, I know about withdrawl symptoms from working in the medical field, but these dreams have hit me like a sack of bricks.

A few weeks ago, I had a dream about Skeet Ulrich (FP Jones from Riverdale or Billy Loomis from Scream for which ever generation you might be more familiar with). The man is turning 50 this year but I still find myself drooling over him when I'm watching Riverdale. Sometimes, I have these phases where I'm obsessed with one thing and it's probably an involuntary coping mechanism for when my anxiety gets bad. It gives me a distraction from what's going on around me while still allowing me to deal with the outside world. I even resort to reading Scream and Riverdale fan fiction stories. I went through the exact same thing with my Twilight obsession years ago when my anxiety was REALLY bad.

The dream was wild as hell, like the whole time I kept thinking, "I must be dreaming." I went to Scarefest in Lexington, Kentucky and he was there doing a panel for Scream with Neve Campbell (Sidney Prescott), Matthew Lillard (Stu Macher), and Wes Craven (R.I.P.). The whole time, we kept making eye contact. Even in reality, when a fine ass man keeps looking you up and down, you start to question everything down to your existence. When the panel was over, they chose a few fans to talk one on one with and I was his choice (apparently I had never met Thomas and was flying solo to an event filled with hundreds of people, also another indication that I was dreaming. My social anxiety would never let that happen. In reality, I would have stroked out). Next thing I know, we're riding in a car with tan leather seats, the sun is beaming down on us, and I'm draped across his lap and we're headed to the airport.

He takes me back to his house (his HUGE house) in California and it's just the two of us (Yes, I stalk his Instagram stories and he's got a nice ass house). A few weeks pass and I'm back home in Havaco, saying my goodbyes to everyone because I'm pregnant, getting married, moving to California, and explaining who Skeet Ulrich is to everyone. They're like, "HOW OLD IS HE?!" and I simply say he'll be 50 in January like it's no big deal (it is.. My grandparents are in their 60s). I'm telling them that he was in Scream so it's not like he's THAT old (Newsflash Bre'A: Scream came out 22 years ago. THE SAME YEAR YOU WERE BORN. 3 MONTHS AND 17 DAYS AFTER YOU WERE BORN). They even ask if he has other children and I happily tell them yes and I go on and on about how I'm going to be the 22 year old step mother to two 16 year olds.

When I wake up, Thomas is rambling about cooking and I'm staring off into space trying to figure out wtf just happened. When I tell him about the dream, he starts with the jokes (I have to admit that the best one was him saying that I was going to give birth to a geriatric baby. He can be funny sometimes, but don't tell him I said that). After the dream, I continued drooling over Billy Loomis in Scream (like he wasn't an effing psychopath that killed his girlfriend's mother and then tried to kill her). The dream was insane, but hell can you blame me?