Dream girl.

“A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.” — Oscar Wilde

I’ve had a couple of dreams recently that have sort of put me off balance.


In the first one, which was about a week ago, I was with this girl who, it was obvious, I had known for some time. We had just reconnected after not seeing each other for a while and we were sitting in the front of a restaurant, waiting for a table for lunch. We were talking when it seemed like all at once her demeanor changed, and she took out her phone and started looking for something.

She said, “I want to tell you something, but I’m not exactly sure how to do it. Please, just look at this.”

She handed me her phone, with its white face and pink case, and her Pinterest app was open on her screen, showing a board full of those typographical quotes you might find on an aesthetic blog: a landscape photo or an out-of-focus girl in a sundress with white sans-serif text laid over the image. All of the ones on this board were about unrequited love, or the one that got away, or about missing someone so badly it felt like your heart would burst. I read through a few of them, then looked back at her, her face bright red with anxiety and embarrassment, and I put her phone down in the windowsill next to us and I kissed her, and she kissed me back, and I could actually feel the weight of the moment fall off her. And then I woke up.


The second one was just the other night. I don’t remember the context of the dream at all, but I remember I was standing in a pool with this girl, the same girl, the water only up to our knees. She was wearing just a string bikini bottom, the beads at the ends rolling against her thighs. Her arms were crossed over her chest. And when she turned away from me, there was this bright, watercolored tattoo between her shoulder blades – something religious in meaning. I remember my heart sank when I saw it, but I didn’t acknowledge it at all.


The first dream is wish fulfillment. That’s not difficult.

The second one I actually took the time to analyze. (That makes it sound more intensive than it was. I only spent a few minutes, as most of it was common sense.)

  • The pool represents one of two things, either of which are appropriate in this case: the desire for emotional exploration and coming to understand one’s feelings (water is a feminine element, and associated with emotions), or, the cleansing away of old things.
  • The tattoo represents exactly what you think it does: strong-held religious conviction. I can only guess that the colorfulness of it means something about how vocal she is about those beliefs.
  • Obviously, breasts symbolize nurturing and caring-for. Covering them would then denote a lack of desire or ability to offer that care.

Taking all three of these things together, this is what I’ve taken from this dream: I need to let go of the feelings I have for the girl the dreams are about because she cannot offer me what I need due to her personal belief system.

That’s… kind of deflating, honestly.

I don’t have a good track record with relationship. With unrequitedness, the story is a little different, and by a little different, I mean it’s a perfect score. Every time.

But, I mean, it’s not like I ever thought I would have a relationship with the girl the dream symbolizes. I caught feelings for her early on, by which I mean not long after we met, which, if you know the girl I’m talking about, seems ridiculous, I understand. I go through spurts sometimes when I think about her a lot, and play the what-if fantasy-land games. In those games, we’re happy. She laughs at my jokes. I cook for her. She’s never too hot to hold the whole night. I read poetry to her. She forces me to watch Nicholas Sparks movies. I reluctantly agree. She kisses me afterward. I point out the shape that I find in the freckles across her nose. She tells me that I show her every day the world is a beautiful place. I smile. She smiles. We’re happy. It’s disgusting.

But they’re just thoughts. They don’t really mean anything. And more often than not, I feel worse for having thought them than I did with the loneliness that instigated them to begin with.

I haven’t seen or spoken to her in years. I’m sure we’re in very different places now. We didn’t have a lot in common when I knew her, so I can only imagine that there’s less to build on now. Maybe we could be friends, if we crossed paths again and wanted put in the effort, but it would never, ever be anything more than that.

But honestly, as long as she’s happy, as long as she feels fulfilled and is living up to her potential, then I will be happy for her. She deserves that.

But what do I know? Maybe that’s what love is, anyway.

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