Dream Relationships

Before I was engaged, I knew a girl. This girl was intense, complicated, and extremely self-serving. We had communicated for nearly seven years–since I was in high school–and we had shared crushes with each other in some capacity or another. We finally met in 2009. I wanted to date her. She wanted to have fun, and not with me.

Long story short, the relationship, and the friendship, went sour before it began. Seeing someone face-to-face is miles away from typing letters. She wasn’t into me, I wasn’t into her, moving on.

But for some stupid reason my subconscious isn’t. She’s been out of my life entirely for the past three and a half years. Sparse communication–she sent a letter or two–and that was the extent of our interaction. I never replied (out of respect for my then-girlfriend).

Of all the people I’ve known my whole life, of every face-to-face relationship or not, she has appeared the most in my dreams. I do not long for her, have no hidden candle for rekindling anything, do not secretly pine or hope. She has much to offer the world, I guess, but nothing I deem valuable. I have no lust or love for her. Yet for the past three nights I have woken from a deep sleep and a chance encounter with her. Usually she’s in groups, in a crowd, shaking my hand and moving on. Once I was being given a tour of a church and she was in the same tour group. I felt no flush of interest, no vibrant excitement. She was there, trying to get my attention, and for the most part, I ignored her.

In my writing mind (perhaps separate from my living mind), I have had an entire, new, friendship with a facsimile of her in my head. Since we cut off communication, I’ve had nearly twenty memorable dreams about her. Any kind of spiritual person would say, “Ah. I know exactly what this is.” Perhaps this is the side of her she wanted me to know. Perhaps, somehow, she’s projecting herself toward me.

Regardless, the premise of such an environment would make a pretty incredible book. If only my thoughts were different, I guess. If only I gave a damn.  I don’t know why it’s happening, but I believe it’s an integral part of human relationships and interactions. I believe we, as people, do this far more often than we care to say.

To the writers, don’t discount this as unimportant, if this happens to you. To everyone else, embrace it. I guess.


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