I have to stop dreaming. Before anyone says, "but Allie! Follow your dreams! Reach for the stars! Believe in yourself!" - I don't mean that I'm going to stop wanting nice things to happen and working hard to make them happen.
What I mean is this: I hate the way I imagine things happening that I think would be so great. Ie, a common dream is dying heroically in some obscure but highly public way and everyone feeling awful for having treated me so badly while I lived. Once this occurs, I will sit in class or lie in bed for ages, dreaming up the exact words people will say at my funeral and trying to think how my tragic death could be possibly made even more guilt-ridden for them. I think everyone (at least, every female) dreams about this at a point, but I am certain I do it more than most people.
Or, I will think of silly little grievances I've stupidly held on to for years and imagine confronting the person and all the things I'd say and how I would look so great and they'd look so terrible. I always exhibit great skill in the way I manage to make it look like I'm a forgiving and humble person while making them feel terrible and look guilty and unfeeling.
Obviously, whenever I have a crush on someone, there is great scope for dreaming up little roleplays for us. But I'm not going to say anything in detail about that because I am aware how pathetic and stupid I would appear if I did. I merely think it would be dishonest to leave that fact out.
These last few days I have become very frustrated with myself over this. Besides dreaming being a time-waster to a very high degree, it is self-indulgent and embarrassing. I could blame it all on books and movies and so on but I don't think that's the case. I think fantasising is so ingrained in my personality that that's the reason I love novels so much. It may not be something that is a terrible sin, like Hitler's racism or any other major emotionally-charged faults. But it may very well be, as in Shakespeare's tragedies, my fatal flaw.
Just noticed - here I go again, comparing myself to Shakespeare's tragic heroes, of all people. Does this prove to you my lack of realism?