Amazing, Because It Is.

I don't fear death because I believe it is a transition. Our souls can't be destroyed. I know we are going to live in another life. - Uri Geller.

I woke up ensconced in an immediate mess of scattered feeling and fragmented thoughts. Though disoriented, I found myself coherent enough to sort out the most immediate. My feelings were of slight confusion and prompt longing for my ghostly companion, fed by the loneliness caused by his absence sprawled on the floor next to me. My bits and pieces of thoughts were "Where did Alex go?", "What happened last night?" and "Why am I on the floor?"

Answers and solutions arrived in an orderly, timely manner as I dragged my stiff, slightly achy body off the hard floor, relocating to the luxurious comfort of my bed.

Last night, Alex and I kissed.

Well, that was the understatement of the year, but in order to keep myself somewhat guarded, I couldn't read more into the occurrence than Alex obviously had.

Because him not being there when I woke up? It could only mean that the steamy little session itself couldn't have meant all that much to him. I'd heard from Jack about Alex's high-school womanizing ways. Maybe it was just casual...and those shivers and tingles I felt when his skin met mine? Just teenage lust. What on God's green earth had led to me jumping to the conclusion that I loved that annoying, constantly bed-headed, smirking little specter? I was ridiculous.

The way his eyes made my heart do back flips...

And the adorable, quirky little grin he always put on, specifically for me, that always made me smile, guaranteed...

Did not mean I loved him.

If I was nothing but a way to piss time away for him, then it would only be fair that I brand him Fisher Price as well (A term Sanchez and Dallas used to affectionately refer to their never-ending selection of boy toys).

Unless...

As I sat Indian-style on my bed, elbows resting on my knees, staring intently at the wall opposite me like it was about to spring to life and tell me the answers to all my problems, in the form of a Shakespearian inspired sonnet, I composed another theory.

Maybe I had been dreaming.

I mean, me kissing Alex? Alex kissing me back? A ghost boy pinning me gently to my bedroom floor and kissing my neck until my thoughts turned to applesauce?

Who was I kidding?

So maybe I fell asleep during the movie and dreamed up this entire fiasco. It was probable. It had been late, and I had been tired.

My alarm clock began bleating furiously from my bedside table, scaring me half to death and yanking me from my fitful inquiries. With a strangled, frustrated groan, I slammed my fist down onto the snooze button, prolonging the inevitable, if only for a few minutes.

In a nutshell, I was completely indecisive about my feelings toward Alex and weary of the next time I'd see him. My mind was at complete unrest, and to top it all off, I had to endure a torturous day of school, where I'd have unlimited amount of time to mull things over until they drove me insane.

What. A. Treat.