The Girl With The Iron Will

Insomnia, Picasso, and A Sudden Realization of the Word 'Late'

"I'm always appearing in your dream. We were always together."

EXO, She's Dreaming

***  

It was happening far too often for me to not expect what was happening next.

I was running down the school hallways, passing students and classrooms, flying down the corridors without being out of breath.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how one knows that they're dreaming. If an Olympic runner gets breathless after a hundred-meter sprint, what more a couch potato like me?

As I turned into the long hallway with the lockers, I slowed down, looking around to find what – or who – I'm looking for. That was the purpose of the dream, you see. To search for this mystery someone. And I couldn't be late, because he was waiting for me and I didn't want to disappoint him.

Really, Jang Mi, this is preposterous. You know boys are never part of any equation.

That was the funny thing. You'd think in real life, I could care less about these things, but apparently my brain doesn't get the hint. I stopped trying to find the logic in this dream long ago, instead trying – and failing – to get some kind of control over it.

So after the first three nights, I sort of succumbed to it.

Looking up, I saw the person I was waiting to see. It was always this guy.

Unlike the other students who fade into the background, he was directly in my line of sight, someone I can focus on. I would always see his back profile, his head bent over as if he was staring at his phone. His hair was a bright blond, swept to the back. He always had this canvas bag slung over his left shoulder lazily, and the way he just stood there, so naturally, as if he doesn't care about a thing in the world...it's just so him.

I raised my hand to my heart. It's always the same feelings, ever single night.

Heart somersaults, check. Butterflies in my stomach, check. Stupid grin on my face, check.

It was always this, every damn time. Whoever this guy was, he had the power to render me into some kind of fangirl mess. And as I walked closer to him, the more intense my fluttery nervousness. Or excitement, who knows?

Good God, Jang Mi, get a grip on yourself. This is just a dream. You don't even know this guy.

My mouth moves, and I tried to catch it this time. Tried to at least see how I shape his name on my lips.

No luck.

Again.

The figure turned, his head looking up like was snapped back to reality at the sound of my voice, and his body began to rotate towards me. I caught a glimpse of a long nose before blinding light poured over him and my surroundings.

No, no, no, no, I thought with dread, my hand raised as if to reach out to him. But, like always, as soon as I blinked, all I saw was the ceiling of my room.

I know how this dream ends, and yet I'm still trying to reach him in time.

My face fell. "Again?" I said in frustration, kicking the blanket off my legs. "Really?"

You know those dreams you're so into, and then they end so unexpectedly? This was one of them. Except instead of occurring once, it's been happening this whole damn week. It got to the point where I was going around, making sure he wasn't someone I was subconsciously thinking of. He has got to come from somewhere, am I right?