It took me a while, but I woke up from a dream where he trew me into the back room of the convenient store I worked at. We were adults not like last time. He locked the door and it was kinda spicy. But I couldn't see his face, I could smell him. I just touched his body and licked his lips.
At the end of this dream, I was the little town's delinquent boy and blew my legs up with some weak bomb. I didn't die but was dying. I didn't regret ending myself, but I did regret messing it up. After the big boom, I didn't wake up, but looked down saw myself bleeding out, I knew I was gonna die. I didn't feel pain, not for a while. Then I started feeling in my belly.
It was similar to that one time when I stabbed myself with a knife, and I didn't feel a thing, then it had a burning sensation around the edges as the adrenaline died down.
But this time I was sat there with the pain in this dream, dying, not regretting. I only woke up for an outside noise. I wonder, did that noise saved me from hours of bleeding in my dream?
Then my book order arrived during the day. I've been reading all afternoon.