It's the strangest thing, though. I have had several dreams where Michael Vandal is a major part of the dream since graduating from high school. No big deal, right, but the kicker is that we were never really close friends. I dream about him more than any of my other classmates, except for Katelyn with whom I am still very close.
I don't remember having a huge crush on him or thinking about him a lot. We talked once in a while, but not any more than any of my other classmates. I have one significant memory of him from high school, but it's not anything that special. I had decided to quit basketball, and it was a major decision for me. We had a serious conversation about that. I don't even remember what we said. He might've said, "I think you're making a mistake." I might've tried to explain my decision. He might've listened. Normal stuff. It was significant to me, because I was having a really hard time with that decision. Somehow, he helped me a little bit...I think.
They're not racy dreams, either. Normal, everyday stuff. I had one once that we were sort of flirting and I wanted to show off for him. We took a bike ride, and I rode my bike right off of a cliff. I remember falling into the abyss and thinking, "Well, that was a dumb move." In another one, I was swimming in the ocean, and there was this polar bear that was swimming with me, and then a big boat came by, and I think he was on the boat with Jenna Milbrath.
But this morning, I was thinking about Michael Vandal - really analyzing why he would be in so many dreams. I think he might have been the very first boy I ever liked. I forgot about it, though, because it was in kindergarten. I remember saying stuff like, "I love you so much, I'm going to kiss you!" And then I did on the top of his head. He had a buzz cut and I liked that. I still like that, actually. I remember the kindergarten thing to do was to tell each other how much we loved each other with our hands, sort of like our love was a fish we just caught. "I love you thiiiiiiis much." And I remember that I told Michael that I loved him so much that the backs of my hands were touching behind me...which I totally can't do now. I wonder if that's a warped memory.
Now that I think further, I think he was the first boy that ever told me he liked me, and then said he hated me. I don't remember what happened, but I do have that vague memory. So maybe he's been stuck in my dream world, because early on, he was set in my subconscious maze as some sort of symbolic pillar. That must be it. Right?