So, back in high school, on the first day of Grade 10, I laid eyes on this guy. And that was that. I was madly in love with him all through high school and into university. He was one of the pivotal specimens that shaped the characteristics that get me all hot and bothered. (This has evolved somewhat, since very few people are built like that, particularly the geeks that I so dearly love.) I’m sure I’ve mentioned him before. Aaaaanyway.
Ever since those days, any time I am unhappy or dissatisfied with things relating to relationships, I dream about him. (Have I mentioned this before? I think so.) Like clockwork, he shows up. Usually only once. Occasionally twice (i.e. two successive nights). It’s sometimes sexual, but always frustratingly so. Usually fairly sad. If something’s been niggling at me, but not, you know – out there – it lets me know that something is most certain off. It’s so consistent that after Andrew and I broke up I was actually waiting for him. The dreams always leave me thinking. I haven’t seen him in a while. Until last night.
He showed up, and the “mood” was totally different from any previous dream. We were like old friends, chatting and joking around and whatnot – the most realistic with regards to what our actual relationship had been. And at one point he casually mentioned that he was gay. And into bears. I woke myself up laughing. THE HELL???
No fucking clue where that came from, but man, I love my brain. At this point I am blaming it on Sherry and her rumour-mongering. Netsexing blog gods, indeed… Hmph.