I had this dream. I was being proposed to. In my high school gymnasium. It was all a bit unsettling. Like dreams sometimes are. Before you realize they’re dreams. And my suitor, my suitor says “Buffy, will you marry me?”<\/p>\n
Before I can say ‘what’, before I can say ‘huh?’, this really hard-knocks, city centre priest shows up on the court. He speaks to my suitor. And I am shook. <\/p>\n
“Good Grief,” he says. “Are you crazy, boy? Why does everyone insist on playing house these days? Why does everyone insist on getting married? Don’t do that.” <\/p>\n
That’s what he says. This crazy priest. I’ve seen him before. I trust him implicitly. Father knows best. <\/p>\n
“You’re right,” is all he says. Is all my suitor says. And then he leaves, just like that, and I am lost. Curled up in some big ball of separateness and floating in space. I feel like a star. Burnt out and collapsing in on itself. <\/p>\n
Someone leads me away. I’m not part of the world I’m in. The world is a cafeteria now. Now, someone is feeding me chips. <\/p>\n
My phone. It’s my life line. And when it rings, I think it’s him. And even though I have nothing to say, I listen anyway. <\/p>\n
It’s Criss. My darling Criss. She is love. And she is comfort. <\/p>\n
“Did he tell you what he did to me?” I think it. And don’t know if I say it. <\/p>\n
“Yes,” she said. “It’s so sad. He sounded so different.” <\/p>\n
And that was it. I woke up. It probably wasn’t immediately. It probably was six hours later. But it felt like immediately. Immediately. And I still felt lost. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I had this dream. I was being proposed to. In my high school gymnasium. It was all a bit unsettling. Like dreams sometimes are. Before you realize they’re dreams. And my suitor, my suitor says “Buffy, will you marry me?” Before I can say ‘what’, before I can say ‘huh?’, this really hard-knocks, city centre<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":4314,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[27,6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2827","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-dreams","category-fiction"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2827","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2827"}],"version-history":[{"count":17,"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2827\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5684,"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2827\/revisions\/5684"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/4314"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2827"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2827"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.buffyholt.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2827"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}