Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Just A Walk through the Park

            I got up and left after that one sided conversation. There was really nowhere else our talk could have gone. I had really hoped I'd get a few "Oh my, that's so strange! Tell me how it differed than what you're used to!" Or whatever the case, but the girls really just didn't seem to care.

My mind was flustered as I made my way into my room. I laid down on my bed for a few minutes and tried to overcome my slight panic attack. Most people would have probably got over this by now, but for me, the craziness had just begun.

I got up and took a look in my mirror. My brown wavy hair was all frizzed out from the humidity and sticking out each and every way. I brushed it out and threw it up into a messy bun. My eyeliner was caking off so I painted a little bit more on. The longer I looked at myself, the more I realized just how normal I looked. Here I was, brown hair, brown eyes, average everything else...what did Billie see in me? Was Billie just a figment of my imagination?

Yes. Yes he was. As much as I resisted to admit it, I just had to. Billie Joe Armstrong? Middle aged rock musician casually interested in grabbing a bite to eat and telling a 19 year old average girl like me about his life? Why would he do that? He wouldn't. Despite all the details that were remembered and all of the things that just screamed real, it wasn't. It wasn't. It wasn't.

"I need to go for a walk."

My brain felt like it was spinning in its skull. Was I feeling more like Brain Stew or Jaded? My energy was minimal but my train of thought was off the rails. I had never felt more lost in my own head. All my life, reality was a dream. Was it starting to flip around?

As I got closer to the main streets of my neighborhood I started to feel physically ill. A headache started to take over and things started to move too fast. So many people were out on streets and I began feeling claustrophobic, something I had never really experienced before. Usually my head was held high, but this time, I couldn't help but stare at the sidewalk. Everything else was a little too much. "I've got to go home," I mumble to myself in pain.

"Layla? Is that you?" I hear from afar. I look up but no one familiar is out there.

"Layla, behind you, you dimwit!" Quickly I turn around to see none other than...you guessed it, Billie Joe.

Just from the sight of him I nearly fall over in a faint, but quickly he catches me from behind.

"Layla! Geez girl, are you okay?"

In a muffled voice I start mumbling.

"No, it's not possible...you can't be here."

"Layla, what do you mean? I'm right here? I'm fucking holding you." He helps me stand up straight and faces me to look right at him. "Are you having a heat stroke or something? The humidity is pretty intense in this state."

"What are you doing here?" I panic.

"Uh, I don't know to be honest. I just kind of ended up here, I'm pretty fucking curious about this as you are, yah know? But once again, it was meant to be! Here you are!"

"What the fuck is going on?" I freak out.

He was dressed in ripped up black skinny jeans with a black &white striped shirt on. He was the one who should be having a heat stroke, not me.

"I'm not sure what you mean," he replies unsteadily.

I take a few steps away from him while shaking.