Sonia slept and dreamed as she always dreamed, of Kyle. The idiot toyed with her good feelings and left her there. Hanging…waiting. Again, she woke up with the usual twist of melancholy.
“It’s normal, Sonia” her old school friend, Bobby had said the other day, “You will keep dreaming about that idiot because it’s been registered in your subconscious. You think about him everytime!”
She’d shrugged with indifference, “I think about heaven all the time too.”
Bloody psychologists! Bobby liked to think he understood every problem, but that’s just by the way. If he was right as he always claimed, how the heck had she got entangled in this web of misery? How come she’d never dreamed of Jesus, or paradise, and all the other things that made up her world? And the months turned into years, still she kept dreaming of the one thing she knew she’d never have without compromising. She smiled at how pathetic she seemed lately. If she wasn’t in her own shoes right now, her situation would have made for a pretty good laugh. Strangers became strangers as soon as they became dear. Oh well, what could she have done? It didn’t matter how hurt she was, or how bad she fell.
“Do something!” She told herself again. It was about time. Bobby said she had to own her own happiness if she ever wanted to be happy. She knew she had to to something about her morning doses of melancholy. What was that he always said? “Talk the talk Sonia. Life is too short.”
…and that was where she’d start from. She picked up her phone from beside her.
It’s about time.
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