I had a bad dream...or was it good? I can't tell

I had a dream that I went to sleep on Jan 13, 2011 and woke up on Jan 14, 2001 in the hospital after my car accident. I had complete knowledge of the "missing" ten years and no idea why I was back in 2001.

Most people would be ecstatic at the possibility of improving their lives by not making the same mistakes they made the first time around but things aren't so simple for me. I have a strict "No regret" policy because I know that even if a certain bad situation was magically turned to good, it doesn't mean I end up better. Maybe I end up worse, maybe it doesn't matter so it's just best to be happy things went the way they did.

This made me utterly terrified.

This is basically what happened when I "woke up" in the dream and realized where/when I was:

Since I've already learned all the lessons from my mistakes and retained that knowledge, does that mean it's ok to try another course of action? Since I still have the memories of the good times I had with some of my favorite people, times that were over before I woke up, is it ok to skip them this time and try something new? But how would that change their lives? I started to miss the people I technically hadn't met yet and some who had yet to be born.

Then I thought outside my world and realized I could stop 9/11...or I could let it happen and make sure I had proof of who was behind it...or both. I could change the world as I knew it.

But would it be better or worse?

I was terrified to do anything, to make any decisions or, god save me, speak to anyone. At any second, my "boyfriend" would walk into the room all happy to see me. I remember the abuse and the drugs and the manipulation and having to fly from PA to AZ at the drop of a hat to help axe his meth binge. But he doesn't because it hasn't happened yet. How can I possibly go with him to Phoenix and LIVE there? I tried to remember when Miriam left for Europe, a trip she invited me on and I turned down bc psycho bf begged me not to leave him. If she hasn't left yet, could that be my first change? I know I had her camera in the glovebox during the accident and I know Jared took pics with it while I slept so she's in town, right? So maybe I can go.

That's a pretty big change. Maybe start by joining a gym and keeping this weight off. I looked down at myself and I was still slim. That's good at least. Right? I don't even fucking know. I don't want to move or breathe or see. But I have no choice. I certainly don't intend to endure his torture again. After 10 yrs I was still not fully over it so I certainly can't deal with it again.

Fuck! What do I do?! I'm rambling and panicking. I don't even know how to get a hold of Miriam. I sure as fuck don't remember her number and I sure as shit don't have an iPhone 4 to find it. She would be the only one who would believe me and I wouldn't even attempt to tell anyone else. I'm also in a hospital in fucking Blythe, CA in the middle of the fucking desert that I flipped the damn car in so any perceived mental illness on my part will warrant more testing on their part, assuming I was injured. Maybe I was. Maybe I'm supposed to get more thoroughly tested and find something they didn't find the first time.

Now I'm just being silly. Right? I can't go through my whole life questioning every move and its impact on my future. Technically my entire future-past disappeared the second I woke up. Right? I wish I knew why I was here or at least whether I was supposed to change anything or not. Or if I'm supposed to go global with my change or stick to my own life.

Ask and ye shall receive.

My pants on the table signal a new text message. I hop up and start towards my pants when it hits me: that's my iPhone. My iPhone that hasn't been invented yet. *pinch* Still here. I turn around, use my voice, manipulate random objects within my reach; it all seems real. I sift through my blood-stained clothes and grab my phone.

How.The.Fuck?

The text is from Miriam. Future Miriam? This discovery has completely, 100%, fucked my whole world up. And seeing as how I just woke up10yrs in the past, fucking my whole world up after that discovery takes a shitload of talent. But in the last 10mins there were really only two plausible explanations for my trip back in time: 1) I never lived all that and it was just a vivid dream from the accident. Maybe it's not even Jan 14, 2001. Maybe I've been in a coma. 2) Time has been erased, everyone's gone back but not everyone knows. Or maybe they do? I'll have to leave the hospital to find out. Unfortunately, neither of these explanations left room for the possibility that I traveled with a technological companion. WTF is this? Quantum Leap? At keast this tells me my visit was orchestrated but what the fuck happens if someone sees this?! #1 priority, never let anyone find this.
Suddenly I feel hunted. Like at any moment a pack of beagles will come charging down the hallway and into my room cornering me until their well-dressed, mounted masters trot in to serve me my sentence.

But for what offense?

And for the love of god, who is my phone plan through? Do I pay a bill? WTF? Why am I thinking about my phone bill when the phone has 9yrs before it gets fucking INVENTED. Also, I'm back in FUCKING TIME; there are bigger fish to fry than my cell phone bill. Yet some part of me is actually concerned about logistics as if worrying about the existence of my unlimited data package is going to help me figure out why I'm here.  If the 2011 I knew still exists, am I there? Am I getting the same calls? If I call someone do I call 2011 or 2001? I have to sit down. I haven't even looked at what Miriam's text says. It would probably help me answer some of those questions but I'm not sure I'm ready to look.

Then it happens.

Jared comes hopping in the doorway, just as I remember he used to do. From what he's saying it seems as though it's just the same as last time - no coma. It's just Jan 14, 2011. I want to vomit. The butterflies are too much. Jared didn't ask me any questions but every move I make both asks and answers all at once but I don't know what the question is or if I answered correctly. I begin to pass out but shake myself out of it. The last thing I need is more attention.

If I'm going to make it, I need to learn to keep it together. The first time I went through this the accident barely phased me. Sure, my head is swollen to the size of a watermelon and in 2 days my eyes will be swollen shut but it wasn't a big deal because I was alive. Now I have no idea what I am.

Fuck...Am I alive?

Jared is talking to me but I can't for the life..or whatever...of me stand looking at him. The idea that I might not actually be alive is sounding plausible. Did I really just say that? Technically I've been returned to the most carefree point in my life. In 2 days I become an EarthLink employee and will be for another 3 gloriously odd years. Is this my heaven? Really? Nah. Right? Couldn't be. Could it? I need to find some sort of way to organize my thoughts. First, stop thinking.


And then I wake up. No wonder I felt off all damn day.

It unfortunately left me with a million questions I didn't even need to answer. My past is solid and I'm happy with where I am so that should be that...right? But perhaps looking at this scenario might help me better understand my future. I might just try to continue the story.

I See You

I see you when you invite me into your dreams; a playland where we toy with the idea of us. I see you in the memories of smiles we met and laughter we wooed into coming home with us like an innocent ménage à trois. But when my eyes open, I do not see you. When my eyes skim the length of my arm I do not see your hand at the end, holding mine. So why is it that I can still hear you breathing? Why can I see sense your presence, just outside my reach? Are you lingering because you choose to or because I wish you to choose to?

.

Bitter Cold

I passed the scrolling marquee on the circle for one of the TV stations and it was reporting "BITTER COLD" today. You know what, TV station? I don't appreciate you labeling it "bitter". "Bitter cold" is subjective so it means something different to everyone. Maybe it's 30°F to a Californian, maybe it's -30°F to a Minnesotan; who knows! It's BITTER!

Just give us the facts and we'll take care of the interpretation. Tell me it's 7°F and I'll make my own decisions about how I feel about that number and its affect on my appendages. Maybe I don't want you influencing how I feel about the temperature. Maybe if you hadn't said "bitter cold" I might think "Shit, it's cold but it's not too cold, I guess". But now I have it in my head that it's bitter. MAYBE I FEEL COLDER NOW! See what you've done? You've actually made it colder. Good job, asshole.