History is a nightmare...

...from which I am trying to awake. -- James Joyce

I've had three dreams wherein I woke up crying, no, make that bawling, my eyes out. I've always considered these dreams as my nightmares, as I'm not really prone to those usual scary ones.

And these nightmares are all about him.


We were getting married, and instead of the groom waiting by the altar, I was waiting for him. He was late. Really really really late. I was already agitated.

Then, my phone rang. It was him. And he was calling to inform me that he was not going to marry me. That he was with that girl and he's decided to be with her, and not with me.


I went to his computer shop late one night, and I saw him getting freaky with that girl!

Turns out that late at night, the girl would come over and they'd have hot freaky sex in his shop.


He told me that he almost got a random girl got pregnant. Turns out, a false alarm. He told me how he met her -- during one of our bar gimiks. He secretly gave her his number. After we went home, he sneaked out and had sex with her.

Then he was blaming me for the "false alarm" because I was the one who sabotaged the condom he was carrying in his wallet.


The last one I just had early this morning. I woke up with such despair and sadness in my heart, I thought the whole thing was real. It really was so real in my mind! It took me a while to realize that it was just a horrible nightmare.

I know, I know. I have issues. Buried deep in my subconscious.

Sweet dreams y'all.

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