So I am at the pub with Scruff and Dob. We are just hanging out, although there was a strange aura to it all as well. Suddenly, my pint glass falls to the floor, and shatters. There's that broken glass again, coming back to haunt me.

So I freak out for some reason and start frantically trying to pick up the pieces.

Perhaps this wasn't just any old pint glass, perhaps this glass was really special, the most special I have ever sipped from, ever. And now my heart feels like it too is broken, and I want to pick up the pieces.

Moments pass and Dob is gone and it is just Scruff and I, standing there in the back of the pub, alone. No music, no bartender, no one.

I look down at my arms and they are covered in scrapes and cuts from the glass, and I mean covered. I am a mess. I don't know what to do and I am afraid. I am bleeding all over the fucking red cedar floor of the fucking pub and he is just standing there! For some reason, I am unable to speak, so maybe that is why he doesn't realize what has happened. But that doesn't make sense to me because I am right there, and I have a look on my face like a lost child, like a helpless, lost child in the dark, and, I am bleeding! Helpless, confused, in pain, and completely invisible to the one person who has been able to dig inside the parts of my soul that no one has ever dared to go.

And that is when I woke up. Shaken, troubled, sweating like crazy. I slowly began to cry, because I knew that this dream, the first I have actually remembered in a while, this dream was so highly representative of how I feel, it hurt.

Background info: Scruffis the kid I was seeing for a while, you can read my recent daylogs for that saga. Anyway, the reason I am telling you this is because it is just a little ironic that I was standing there helpless, pleading with him to show me some sign that he recognized my suffering, my pain. But he didn't, he just stood there watching me bleed, incapable of doing anything to stop it, and not wanting to either from the look he had in his eyes. Incredibly ironic in terms of recent events as well. Because now, more than ever, I feel helpless, and I am in pain, and he continues to just stand there, unwilling to accept that he never should have whispered sweet nothing's into my ears.

Because that is all they were, sweet, sweet, NOTHING'S.