Background: Yesterday I woke up with a migraine at 9:17 AM. I came back home at 12:30 PM after both of my classes and fell asleep around 1 PM until 7:45 PM and then was up until almost 5 AM. I fell asleep around 5 AM and woke up at 11 AM. It's been a weird sleep time.
In my dream it was August 24th, and I couldn't make it to Boston or a related place for the Worst Day of the Year so I was home. I was tired and anxious about the next day, but I invited two of my best friends to go to a graveyard at UCF (It was literally at UCF. Like, next to the Student Union or some shit.) but I asked my grandmother to give us a ride there and back because my car was broken down or something?
It evolved into not just me and my two friends going but me, my two friends, both of my grandparents, and my father. Which doesn't seem like much, I know, but my grandmother or my father alone is enough emotional stress for weeks. But they were all coming. And suddenly I had to buy flowers to bring to a not even real grave - a proxy grave. I had to find the perfect bouquet for a proxy grave and the one I picked wasn't crazy enough so my grandma bought another one and made me switch it out and bought a beautiful glass vase for it.
So it's the 25th and all I really want to do is take a nap and maybe get on Skype and talk to Catitude but I can't. My dad's asking me why I'm not dressed up and if I'm bringing anything to her proxy grave and on the inside I'm furious but I'm literally so tired that I just lay down on the couch until they tell me it's time to go. And when I'm laying on this couch my vision becomes almost Ghost Hunters and I see a clip of a ghost coming up to me and walking right through me and then me immediately going into my bedroom and that keeps playing in my brain a couple times until a voice-over happens and it's like clips of Wayne and Lori telling me how much they love me and how much everyone loves me etc. (At the Wake, the first thing Wayne did when he saw me was swallow me up in a hug and he whispered, "She loved you" in the most sincerest and self-assured voice I've ever heard about anything.)
And suddenly I'm recalling memories in perfect clarity. Her and I being goofs on the Fourth of July, us on the phone and she's asking me about Doctor Who and I'm asking her about John Green, us playing Neopets or some random shit. It's all just random shit but it's perfect. I can remember them perfectly, I can relive them. Like I'm getting this one last gift from the most lovely person ever. One last card in the mail.
But then I wake up and we're going to the UCF Cemetery and my grandma's asking me about stamps and my dad says, "You know you're going to have to say something, right?" and I find like a shirt (It's not even mine! This whole thing is just bullshit!) to leave and I bring a halo of stars that I found lying around in my junk arts & crafts drawer and we're going. We get there and there's a frat that's actually like, burying their friend and in morning but the fucking fake plot is behind where they are so we leave them and we get to this secondary area which is just this Van Houton-esque character and one of the funeral houses people and they obviously don't care about the person they're burying but they have to put on a show and it's horrible. It's the worst thing I've ever imagined. But I make my crew pay respects to actually-being-buried-here people and not us so we sit through the first ceremony. My dad at one point sits somewhere and I say, "No! Not there!" and he says, "Is this where she's..?!" and I almost snapped but said something like, "No! But it's someone's actual grave so be a bit more respectful." and he moves.
I want to pay my respects to the person the coffin because they are newly dead and my friend is not newly dead and this person doesn't have anyone that cares for them and I go to look into the open casket and it's literally the scariest obviously-horror-movie-villain ever. But the funeral home lady is like, drinking vodka and the Van Houten is telling a joke and the girl comes back alive and is about to stab me and I wake up.
But that is how it feels, a lot of the time. It feels like people who did not know or care about her at the time want to know and care. It feels, to me, like they want to be a part of something, they want someone or something to mourn. They want to feel a fraction of what I feel. (They can't. Your secondhand emotions will never match my own.) Like your grief may be present and real but to make it more important than my own is sick and it makes me sick and sometimes I can't breathe with every single person who comments on things. I don't know, that dream just felt like a summary of everything that's happening lately but I wasn't surprised by it, I was just tired. All I wanted to do was quote The Book and then go home and call Lindsay and tell her about me possibly being killed by a zombie.
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