CHABROL JE T'AIME!!!!

NOT TO WORRY, IT IS ONLY ANOTHER OF THOSE DREAMS OF SAINT C*****S, MY OLD LYCEE[sorry, had to remove the name of the lycee as it shows up in Google] Yet again.
It was a strange dream.

I was back in St Caprais in Agen and it was the beginning of the year, I was just entering the quarters pension where we were staying and putting things in lockers and thinking about this last year of lycee which was leading me and other pupils, to the Baccalaureat.

We had some diner at the "pension" which was strangely quiet, though Mr Chabrol brought to each of us, individually (there were girls and guys there) a huge fruit on a plate, which he said was "a chestnut".
The other pupils didn't say anything, uninterested about what it was, and more concerned about their academical thoughts or lustful thoughts about others. They just started eating, looking down.
I was me of then, but I was also who I am now; I was not feeling in a shy mood. I was happy. I got very interested by teh strange looking chestnut that surely wasn't a chestnut, so I remembered having seen some in my travels and spoke very vividly and happilly with Chabrol about the fact this fruit was in fact a root vegetable and he agreed. I was so joyful and happy to be able to speak to him, knowing I would have another year where I could see him (he is an English teacher there). He didn't reject me, but spoke to me quite happily.

I was delighted, not just by him but by my inner state, of strengh, knowledge, and also introspection that I had developped away from France, though in the dream, I didn't realise I had left France ever; I had stayed there. And last year, i was in "Premiere L".

I was so joyful, the dream was going really well, no traumatising sight of myself being horribly awkward or feeling separate or unwanted, uncompatible.

After the meal, I was talking to anotehr student guy saying to him, actually, I didn't remember him from last year. When he said to me "But, you were not in our class last year, you were already passing your Baccalaureat with the other students like Nadege Durgeuil and Virginie Caro and people like that! "
I was very surprised, as I didn't remember having passed my bac, though after a while remembered, and thought shit, so what am I doing here?
We talked further and a girl started folding my dresses and putting them back in my case, saying I had passed therefore I didn't belong there!
I was upset! I wanted to stay! I had grown up, I felt like myself, I wanted anotehr chance to try this bloody college again so to see if I could at least have a "fun " year in my life, where I enjoyed myself!

I was still very puzzled, and to think that much about what I did last year sort of semi woke me up, and as I woke up, I did wonder where I was. I was, as far as I was aware, in Saint Caprais, this prison that I still loved and in which all my dreams were coming true, I wanted to be around Bernard again, hear his sarcasms and lovely words that he said so amicably to each of us, I wanted this time to be myself enough to dare speaking to him on a person to person level (rather than from dog to god level) and wanted to be around people who would accept me!

I woke up a bit more, but...I didn't want to be where I was. IN my bed in a strange room with yellow curtains and straw walls. I wanted to go back to sleep and go back to Agen... But I was too awake for that!
Ah, melancholy, but how nice to live a dream where I was more myself and discover, realise I had grown up and was more deep now than I used to be then, and able to use my head in a sociable way.

And to see Bernard again, and him taking an interest in my knowledge of "tubercules exotiques" !!!!
I was melancholic but happy!

I have thought about him most of the day, wondering how he is; not knowing very much and wondering if I ever botehred him with what I did. I will probably never know...

Tonight, as I feel for someone else who is having such a tired and stressful time, and thinking about his soul needing to reconnect with him and share some love with him, and I go downstairs to find a candle to join him in the afterspace...

The thought of Chabrol comes up like a puppet on a string and I am there, all excited and full of a childish joy of thinking that I can love. I can love.
I can say to some people that I love them.
But I can only say it if they are away, or they won't reply.

I can't tell to the ones around me that I love them. I can't tell Ru. I can't tell Terry. I can't tell Hassan. I can't tell Yves. I can't tell Natacha. I can't tell myself. I can hardly tell Ro or Mille.
But I can tell Chabrol!!!

Chabrol, I love youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!!!! I love youooooooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!! Bernard!!!!


Ah well, never mind.


Poor Chabrol.
He doesn't deserve that bad a treatment.
I wish I could leave him alone, or my subconscious stop being stuck in this past where I wasn't able to be who I wanted to be. Unable to feel, unable to love, unable to express.
Can I please move on?
SOmetimes, it is easier to move on when we can meet again from the past, those we loved...

I better go to bed. God knows what other dream is going to come tonight...

Ru? I hope so.