Kevin’s Dream

I had the dream again last night.

It used to be a once-in-a-while thing, now it seems like its happening every night, and I think I might be going crazy because of it.

I mean, I’m a typical high-school boy, so why would I dream of being a girl?

It always starts out the same - I go over to my girlfriend Tammy’s house, and I change into her clothes. She doesnt seem to be freaked out by this, in fact in the dream she has a blast helping me strip the boy off of me, and reveal a girl inside.

By the time I’m done, I’m not just a girl, I’m a sexy one, in a short skirt, tight top, and high heels.

We touch up our makeup together, and then we’re off to the school dance, where I seem to have no problem with boys dancing with me, flirting with me ....

Then my best friend Dave comes up to me, and he looks ....

My heart skips a beat just looking at him.

He takes my hand, we dance, and I love the feeling of his strong arms around me.

By the time the dance ends I’m trembling with a feeling I cant put my finger on.

Then he kisses me, and I can name it.

I’m in love with him.

I want him to hold me, and kiss me, and do things I am not equipped for with me ....

Then I wake up, crying.

I dont know what to do about this.

I dont know who I can talk to.

I know dreams aren’t real, but it comes from somewhere, but where?

And its not just the dream. Sometimes, I look at myself in the mirror, and I look .... wrong, somehow. I look and I half-expect to see the girl from my dream looking back at me.

And the fact she doesn’t is a grief I cant even begin to describe ....

I’ve got to pull myself together, shake this off somehow.

I wish I had someone to talk to about this, but who?

My dad is a man’s man, he’s counting on me to follow in his footsteps. Go to collage, be the Big Man on Campus, marry a girl just like mom, he’d never understand.

And Tammy’s counting on being the girl in that picture, I can tell this in the way she talks about our future. And yet the more time I spend with her, the more I envy her for being a beautiful girl, more than I desire to be with her. She’d never want anything more to do with me if I told her.

And then there’s Dave. We’ve been friends forever, but if I told him I was dreaming of making love to him, he’d hate me for sure. Maybe he wouldn’t beat me up or something, but our friendship would be over, just like that.

So what do I do? Part of me wants to just end it, take my dad’s service revolver and just ... take the easy way out.

But I know that’s the coward’s way out.

So what do I do?

Wait a minute.

We had a lady come to our school, and she talked about “Kids help phone”.

We all got a pamphlet, have I still got it?

Here! Here’s the number.

Ring, ring. Click.

“Kids help phone, how can I help you?”