A Worse Day
9:32 a.m. | Oct. 22, 2007

I swear you do this on purpose! But then, how could you do anything on purpose when you have a problem doing anything at all. Today is a bad day. Last night I dreamed a dream of us. Again. It's probably some residual affect from writing that entry the other day. In fact, logic tells me it is. Logic tells me that I can't stop thinking about you, knowing it was about this time of year when you and I first met. That it's been four years. Four. Years.

I know I'm completely insane. I know I'm technically an online stalker. I have the means to accurately surmise the last time you had the chance to contact me, and didn't. Again. I know you truly don't care. I mean, I know this. Everything logical and rational tells me this. And I know dreams are just an extension of ourselves, that we dream what we see, or want, or don't want. That dreams are just a reflection of something in our lives that we have an issue with. I get that. Who gets that more?? Nobody! So why. Why am I insane when it comes to you?

Last night was perfect. It was the first time we were together. Everything was nervous, flighty, dreamy. Can something in a dream be "dreamy"? I remember looking at you, at your face, your shoulders, your arms, your hair... I even checked out your ass at one point. It was very nice. We were running. I don't know why. Trying to get away from people, the city, the hustle and bustle. Just trying to get away. And in my dream, we went where I worked. And in my dream, I worked at a motel (I did when I was 19), and we were running from room to room, trying to find one that was unoccupied because it was late in the afternoon and all the maids had gone home and we were sure we would be left alone. Alone to do whatever it was that we wanted to do. And that wasn't have sex. There was this sense of urgency to just be with each other. To sit quietly and try to memorize everything about the perfection of us. It went without saying. We both knew. We read each other's minds. Even in my dreams. At one point, we were running, and we were laughing, and you zigged when I zagged and suddenly our noses were touching. Everything went still, and I remember thinking that all I'd have to do is move half an inch, and our lips would be touching. It was so tempting. Then I thought, "No! This isn't right! Our first kiss shouldn't be an accident!" So I looked you right in the eyes, smiled, and dashed away. And you ran after me. You didn't chase me, you didn't try to keep up, you just ran to be with me, to not lose me.

There was more to why I pulled away from that accidental kiss. I wanted you to come to me. Had I leaned foward, I would have been the initiator and that's not what I wanted. For once in my life, I wanted someone else to initiate. And I wanted that someone else to be you. Most of my life, I'm the one who chases. I'm the one who gets what she wants. And most of the time, I'm left with the disquieting feeling that the only reason anybody falls in love with me is because I loved them so fiercely. Because I pursued them. It's hard not to fall in love with someone who makes you feel like king or queen of the world. And most of the time, that's what I think people fell in love with. Not me. But the effort of me. And what a bonus, I'm smart and pretty and easy to get along with. So it's a no brainer. But not with you. I wanted to make sure that you wanted me. And so I would let you decide when our first kiss would be.

Luckily, I didn't have to wait long. We stood in an unoccupied room, the first moment we stopped actively running, and you looked at me. And I took you in. I breathed you. My head swam with the moment. And I knew. I knew you were coming for me. You were so gentle. As if you knew how important this moment was. As if it were sacred. You took my face in your hands, my cheeks felt warm and flushed against the coolness of your palms. You looked me straight in the eye, and in that brief moment, something in us connected. And I never felt so close, so entertwined in mind, body, and soul with anyone else in my entire life. Waking or dreaming. And then you kissed me. And I knew what it was to belong to someone. To belong to them completely.

But guess what? It was all a damn dream. And now I'm awake. And in fifteen minutes I have to go to work and pretend I care about it. But for these few moments, I will let myself mourn what we will never have. It hurts so much. And I'm aware that I'm completely insane. I'm aware that you want nothing to do with me. I get it. But the thing is, I don't really get it. Not really. Tears do nothing. I will wipe them away, wash my face, and keep you and this dream tucked away in the back of mind, just like everything else that has never happened with us.

Today is going to be one of those days.