Lately, I have been sleeping through a lot of bad dreams. Actually, I cannot distinguish whether they are good or bad. They're just dreams. I wake up in a bad mood, however, so I guess that would make them bad dreams. Strangely, they aren't really dreams but more like memories stuck in dreams. Memories of fraternization and camaraderie (that I was not apart of), smiles (that weren't necessarily mine) and new friendships and bonds made (that didn't involve me). See, I keep having these dreams of college.

Now, don't get me wrong. I didn't exactly have the most harrowing college experience ever. It's not like I was dragged through broken glass for three years. Yes, I didn't even graduate college. Isn't that horrible? I have three years under my belt. Isn't that like running a city marathon and dropping out in the last ten miles? I had to leave for financial reasons. That's what I tell people. And that's 100% true. Whatever, I'm poor. But I also feel like had I stayed in college I would most likely have graduated into an asylum as opposed to the big, bad corporate world (though to some, the two are one in the same).

Everyone who has ever read a blog entry of mine knows that there's always one part where I whine incessantly and without restraint and here it is: it's just that everytime I hear about people who still talk to their college friends, or how they're getting together with their old roommate for Homecoming or how they're going to meet their fraternity brother for dinner I just want to hit myself in the back of the head. Because I didn't have any friends in college (which is so untrue, I just didn't keep in touch with any of them). Because I was too depressed. Yeah, I know; shocker! Derrick was depressed. I'm just like, I mean of all the years in my life when I could've realized that I like penis it had to be in college? When I was still interrupting study time for Bible time and still referring to God as my "Dad" in prayers?

"Wait, you referred to God as your dad?" Chris interjected one Sunday afternoon over brunch.
"Yeah, I mean, I never had a real father. And he's 'our Father.'" I answered sheepishly.
"There's something so fucked up about that."
"I think it's cute." Brandon smiled, with reassurance, at me before taking another bite of his eggs benedict.
"Wait, so was Jesus your brother?" Eric jumped in, laying his fork down and glaring at me with inquisitive eyes.
"Yeah!" I answered, excited at the recognition, "He was my big brother."
"And Mary was your mom?"
"No." I corrected, "I already had a mom."
"What the hell?" Chris said, "You can't just exclude Mary. She's Jesus' mom."
"And therefore yours."
"But I already have a mother."
"Well, then you had two."
"Oh my God!" Eric laughed, "You had lesbian mothers!"
"Whoa, you can't just refer to Jesus' mother as a lesbian in public!"
"So says the freak who spent his teen years calling Jesus Christ his big brother."
"So like," Eric laughed, "Were you afraid that if you misbehaved God would like, strike you down with lightening as a form of spanking?"

Anyways, as I was saying; it's hard to have a good time when you feel like you're being invaded by some disease. I was so full of self-hatred and disgust.

"Maybe you should've asked your 'dad' for some advice." Chris laughed.
"Shut up."

So, back to these dreams. It's like I'm there again and I'm watching it like a movie. All of those moments and those people; all of the chances I'd passed up in terms of making friends and having a good time simply because I was afraid of "the gayness." And I'm just like 'why did I do that?' and 'why didn't I do this?'

"That sounds like you now."
"Yeah, not much has changed." Chris said.
"Whatever. But here's the thing: I think I want to go back to school."
"That's awesome!" Brandon cheered.
"I think that's the best idea ever!" Chris congratulated. "Are you going to take night classes after work or distance learning?"
"You should totally go to Columbia. How awesome would that be to finally get your degree from Columbia?" Eric said.
"Cheers to you." Chris announced as they all toasted me with their mimosas.
"No, I was thinking I'd go back to Florida State."
The three of them attempted to suppress choking on their drinks.
"What?"
"I mean, maybe that's what my dreams are telling me." I said, attempting to gloss over the topic by casually returning to my caesar salad.
"But your life is here. Your job is here. Your friends, hello, are here." Chris said.
"Yeah, but school is down there." I answered.
"Where is FSU? Miami? Because I so could use someplace to crash whenever I head to South Beach."
"No, it's in Tallahassee. You know, the capital. Up below Alabama."
"What?" Brandon asked, genuinely perplexed, "Why would anyone want to go there?"
"Look, I miss college too." Eric offerred, "I really do. Especially that kid on the wrestling team I used to fuck with--God, was he flexible. I mean, wait, I miss college too but you can't just uproot yourself now and go back nearly ten years later."
"Yeah, and what are you gonna do surrounded by a bunch of horny 18 year olds anyways?" Chris said before adding, "Wait a minute, considering you've had like, years to work on your game you could probably fuck your way through half the dorms on campus by second semester!"
"You're not helping." Brandon accused. "Look, Derrick you can't just go chasing memories across the country. I don't care how many sexually experimental boys you'll be able to bang."
"It does sound a bit tempting now, doesn't it?" Eric pondered aloud.
"Shut up, Eric."
"I'm not chasing memories." I lied.

Ok, so I'm chasing memories. That's probably why I never went back--to any college--to finish my final year. Well, that and I had no money. But I could totally just get another job down there and--

"And what?" Chris asked, "Live in the dorms?"
"No...." I replied unconvincingly.
"Aren't you just a tad too old for dorms?"
"They have apartment style dorms."
"Yeah, and then you can fuck your roommate in between all the fresh tail you'll be bagging elsewhere across campus at the frat parties and shit." Eric joked. "Wait," he added with a contemplative tone, "why is this increasingly sounding like a good idea?"
"Well, I don't know what to do..." I gave in.
"I second that you should just ask dear old 'dad' for advice?" Brandon laughed.
"I just, I don't know what to do right now. What is it about being 29 that makes you regret everything? It's like someone just flipped a switch and suddenly I'm in scour mode over the last decade or so of my life. With a magnifying glass!"
"I don't know, but if this keeps up we are so not hanging out once you hit 30."
"Your problem is you are too self aware." Chris advised, sipping his drink.
"What's wrong with being self aware?" I asked.
"Nothing, if you're Dakota Fanning gunning for an Oscar."
"Maybe you're going through your mid-life crisis." Eric offered. "Yeah, this is totally your 'American Beauty' moment. You're like, Black Kevin Spacey."
"That would explain the sudden desire to fuck a bunch of 18 year olds." Chris chimed in.
"I never said I wanted to go back to school so I could sleep with freshmen!" I responded, "I'm just saying...maybe this, this is my chance for a do over."
"Dude," Chris said after hailing the waiter for another round of drinks, "life does NOT afford people do overs."
"Well, maybe it does." I said defiantly.
"If it did, I'd be able to go back to my first boyfriend and let him know that I was only being a dick because I was afraid of being in love and that he really is a great person."
"And I would go back to before my mother died and spend every waking moment savoring the mere fact that she's alive and able to answer me when I tell her that I love her." Brandon added, slicing into the remainder of his eggs benedict as a distraction from his emotions.

I suddenly realized how petty I was being. Life is life, and it moves forwards, not backwards. Yeah, I had a bad time in college; but it is what it is. All that I can do is concentrate on enjoying every moment of the future in the ways that I didn't 8 years ago. Besides, I did have some really good times in college. College was when I first started coming out of my shell and talking to people. See, it was high school that was the real trip to Hell for me. But that was like almost twelve years ago or so (Jesus! Am I that old!?). I guess this is what I do. I get stuck on these emotional rifts and I just keep going over them and over them like they're the most important things in the world. While completely ignoring the reality of the situation. It's the source of my whining. And everyone who knows me knows that whining is like, what I do best (well, the second thing I do best...). So no, I'm not going back to Tallahassee. Though I never did get to do study abroad so maybe I'll go to the Florida State campus in London!

Just kidding.