So I was thinking again, this time about dreams.

I woke up from today's dream, not remembering much about it. It was very strange, at least, that was the impression I got.

I was dating someone, but I don't remember who or what his name was. In this dream, I was talking to a friend of his, and his friend said in response to something I said (which I don't remember), "Yeah, well, what do you expect, when all he dates are Muppets?"

Really, that's all I remember, because I woke up then. But then I was reading a comment on a blog, and something clicked. Something about a dream that I have periodically; the characters change but the feelings and such stay the same. I've dreamed that dream with people that I've been seriously involved with, but it started out about a crush I had when I was far younger. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it's same internalized hopes and fears that I've always had, like the little girl who first dreamed it is still stuck inside my head. Not about marriage, but about relationships. But until this moment, I didn't realize I had had the same exact dream about guys that I was seriously interested in. And maybe that's my problem, that there's this dream that stays in my head convincing me that these are the only people for me, when really, they're not. I suppose that I could use that as a clue - if I dream this dream, then perhaps it is time to back out of the relationship, just be friends or cut ties, and move on. I mean, this dream has such a strong pull that I've stayed in quasi-relationships/relationships against my better judgment.

Perhaps it's time I dreamed a new a dream. Something different.

But in a way I have, with the dream about a guy I have never met. It started a couple of years ago, this dream, and I have this dream every so often, and it makes me sad, because I really don't think I'd ever attract someone like this nor have a relationship with them. He's a person that understands me, is a lot like me, actually, though not exactly. He finds my bizarreness quite endearing and actually listens to me. We can talk about stuff, anything, really. He's got a fairly large group of friends, who are, for the most part, nice, but he really enjoys my company. Dark hair, dark eyes, and seemingly mysterious, but not really. He'd laugh at my thought of me sitting and smoking at the bar, in my "thinking and smoking pose" and would get the thought behind "bar noir" and actually find it funny. He'd be as mischievous as I, and we could be mischievous together. Wouldn't mind my random singing of songs, or the habit I have of bursting out into song if a situation reminds me of a particular lyric, or just making up a song because I'm bored. (I still do that. It will never be as epic as the Mr. McFeely musical, but then again, more than one person was involved with it.) He understands that I need my space and that we don't have to do everything together, he's got his hobbies and stuff and doesn't whine when I don't want to go to something in particular and he is okay with going alone, and he's fine with me doing stuff without him and doesn't need to be with me every singe moment of free time I have. He's okay with "no" and doesn't get uptight or bitchy or whiny about it. He knows that if I embarrass myself, especially if it's mortally embarrassing, not to keep bringing it up or tease me until I bring it up again, because then I'm okay with it and have gotten over being embarrassed. He knows that I mean what I say.

But in my head, I know it's just a fantasy, just a dream about an imaginary person. Real life doesn't work that way. I keep dreaming of him, though, and sometimes it makes me cry. To have someone listen to me on that level would be nice, instead of it being something that I have to work at getting through to someone for years and years and have to give up because I'm far too frustrated at that point, and just live inside my head with my thoughts or write down my frustrations. In a way, I've just completely given up altogether, but that doesn't mean I don't still have a sliver of hope. I suppose that makes me pathetic, but so be it, because I no longer have the will or desire to have to explain myself repeatedly only to be ignored in favor of someone thinking that they've actually figured me out. I haven't completely figured myself out yet, and if there's anyone who can analyze things to death, it's me. Some people are amazingly simple to figure out. Others, not so much.

So I'll just write my pathetic whiny screeds on the internet, take a deep breath, and then go to work. God, I really am insufferable and boring!