man of my dreams

I visited my old office last week and my ex-boss told me she was investing in a little farm in the province and got some news about a former public servant and how it was a shame that he didn't run anymore the last elections as he really did some good.  I am really glad that people appreciated his work because that would mean the time he spent away from me would not be in vain.

Of course, he is still far away from me and it still remains to be seen if we will ever come together again.  And then, there are a lot of considerations.  My mother is worried that I will be too despaired by ballet, that I will never be happy with my place in it, that she's more hopeful about how this aspect of my life will turn out.  I'm just waiting to find out what happens next.

While waiting, I had this dream.  It's haunted me all day yesterday, replaying in my head, in certain movements of my body, like some dreams do.  It is of an old love; specifically, a love I felt right before my wishy washy public servant.  He had asked me to go somewhere with him - where, I couldn't tell, but we rode a wheelchair (most commonplace in that dream) to the airport and got plane tickets to go away.  I still feel everytime he placed his arm around me, squeezed my shoulder, kissed my temple.  I still feel that giddiness from seeing him smile at me.  The dream ends as we get to the boarding lounge, which looks like the backstage of the Folk Arts Theatre, and the thought in my head was how happy he made me.

Of all the men I have ever loved, my love for this guy doesn't make any sense at all.  I spoke to him only around five or six times all in all and yet I always managed to blow those conversations right out of proportion in my head.  It's been a long time since I've actually seen him or spoken to him, and if my friend hadn't texted me about how I was going to die if I watched King Arthur and realized who Lancelot looked like, I wouldn't have thought about him in a long time, either.  I had even written him a message, about how knowing him made me glad and I even marvelled at how different our lives were now.  He didn't reply and I didn't expect him to.  And then I have this dream.

I used to have dreams about this guy all the time, all similar ones where we're super happy not doing much, just being cozy together and content.  They were always this lucid, too, like real life.  In real life, I'm that easy.  I don't need much to be loved, I don't ask for much.  The men in my life just don't know it.  Or if they do, they take it, they take me, for granted.  Story of my life.

I have long ago accepted that I'm never to have anything to do with this man in real life.  And I know I'll be happier with the one I'm right now waiting for.  But while I'm waiting, I don't mind the dreams.  I'm just not really looking forward to seeing King Arthur, though.