Perfect Little Dream, The Kind That Hurts The Most
I dreamt about him last night.
I didn't want to.
We were hanging out, and I think it was a party. Maybe his birthday party? It did just go by.
And everyone was there. His wife, Ben, a bunch of other people.
I think he took some acid? I don't know, but for some reason he started to have a bad trip and he was freaking out. I am the consummate "mommy" for the frying people and so I KNEW that I had to make it better. Somehow I was the person who was going to make it ok, and no one else could.
How stuck up am I in my dreams?
I'm sure in real life, his wife would be the person who could make his whole world ok again.
My idea was to hug him. I'd just keep hugging him until he felt better. And that wasn't a big deal. I hug lots of people and Ben is not (much of) a jealous type. Everything was going fine and he started to feel better.
Then he kissed me.
Not like a full on, tongue kiss, just a peck on the lips.
I was surprised and pulled back. I told him that he should not do that. It wasn't ok for him to do that.
I don't know what his response would have been, cause I woke up right then. As if my own brain was like...get the hell out of this dream. What the hell is wrong with you?
The funny thing is that he looked like he used to look, not like he looks now. I don't think he's very attractive now. Too many piercings in the face area, and some weird mohawk going on.
I am having problems wrapping my head around this dream.
Did I pull back cause I am smart and knew that I love Ben?
Did he only kiss me because he was out of it?
I thought this was all done.
Too many guys who I have been friends with and slept with don't talk to me at all now. When we used to share so much together. We'd talk on the phone for HOURS about Laura. He thought I had some sort of insight into her? Or at least some insight into the female psyche. It's like we weren't ever friends now. We never had deep, meaningful conversations.
Remind me never to fuck anyone else if Ben and I don't work out, k?
Especially if he ends up like every other guy and we can't be friends after 10 years of being friends and 6 years of sharing everything.
The day after that dream, I got some blog comments on MySpace. I was all excited, like hurray. But also thinking...well, I haven't blogged in FOREVER, so someone must be catching up.
I was almost horrified to see that those comments were from Paul.
I didn't remember what I had said, if it was too personal, and I wasn't sure what would actually get a response from him. I've tried numerous times to "talk" to him, but he never answers. I know that he reads any message I send, but he never responds.
I had gotten too drunk on beer last month some time...maybe it was February?
Anyhow. I sent him a message. A perfectly innocent one, but something from the heart. I told him that I didn't know if he cared, but that I missed hanging out with him as a friend.
The lesson? Never drunken MySpace. I might as well plaster something on my forehead saying I'm an idiot. I can't type, I don't often make sense, and it takes to long to get my point across when I do make sense. I used to drunken email him, back when I was still so angry. I'd get drunk and let it all fly. It was stupid, but when nothing made him respond, I got really mean. He finally responded, and I think that was it. I didn't have to try and get him to email me anymore. I was done. Apparently, I need to have the last word? Who knew? *smirk*
But just emailing him wasn't enough, I had to have some feedback, or else it doesn't count as the last word.
So, I see that the comments are from him, and so I scan each entry. Hoping to god that I haven't said something stupid. I got a little lax in censoring my MySpace before my sisters and mom joined up. I figured not many people were actually reading it, and that it would be fine.
After my little panic attack, I realized that it was fine. The first comment was in reponse to my fat blog. The one with the video? I'd link, but let's be honest, I'm really fucking lazy. If you read it, you know what I'm talking about, otherwise you do not.
The comment read:
"As you well know, I believe big girls rule the world, mostly because most big girls that ive met seem to be alot more in touch with them selves then thier skinny counterparts.
Its not easy being a big person, and it will never get easier, but if your happy with your self, and the people who love you are happy with you, then FUCK EVERYONE ELSE ^^
Life is to short to worry about other people expectations and predjudices"
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As with almost anything he ever wrote, or said to me, I dissected it. Or at least thought it over a LOT before I wrote back.
Let's forget that he can't spell, I didn't know this when I "dated" him.
When I mentioned how I always blamed my fat when boyfriends left me, I meant him. He wasn't as fat then as now. And he left me for someone skinnier. It was hard not to justify it that way. So why'd he have to fuck up my pre-conceived notions? What the hell else was wrong with me that he would leave me for someone who he professed to not like.
Anyhow. I let it go, cause getting all defensive at him would not have taken me anywhere. He would have only ignored me more. Instead, I wrote back something fluffy and light hearted. Something that would never let know how shocked I was that he was talking to me. Something that never gave away how I always felt that he thought I was too fat.
"You're quite right. I just have days where I get to feeling bad about myself. Like most people, probably.
But I really loved that video. I wish I knew that girl IRL.
I've always been one of those people who worry too much about what others think.
Even if I don't show it.
(I hope I don't show it, anyhow.) =)"
-----------------------------------------------------------------
I figured that was the end of this blog comment. The end of our pseudo-conversation. Instead, I get this comment:
"the only ppl who could see that (you care about other ppls thought) are the ones who know you best, in that case, I think your pretty safe. Everyone who knows you knows you kick ass Des ^^"
-------------------------------------------------------------------
WTF? We're still talking? This same person who couldn't be bothered to try and hang out with me, to even message me back when I asked him a question, has to tell me that he thinks I kick ass? WTF? WTF?
Seriously, that requires a lot more WTF?'s, but I don't have the time.
This same person who made me feel like crap and like I wasn't good enough has to tell me that I kick ass?
If I'm so cool, how come we never hang out? Ass.
After my initial round of irritation (cause obviously, I'm still irritated, just re-reading it now), I wrote back:
"I do pretty much kick ass. (smug much?) *smirk*
Even if I ain't got no feets. LOL"
(The feet thing is an inside joke. (I had inside jokes with this guy, and I still don't warrant being a real life friend anymore) When I was in the hospital, they gave me drugs. I BEGGED for drugs. Afterwards, I could not feel my feet. So, he'd run around and poke at my feet and then be like..you ain't gots no feet. It was cute. Even months later when the joke would not die in our house, it was cute. I'll always think it was cute, though I did affect mock irritation after awhile. I was like..I DO HAVE FEETS! SEE!)
Also, LOL? It's totally catching on with me. I wasn't one of those people who used to do that, but I do now.
He responds - and if he hadn't, I would have been more pissed off.
"ROFLMMFAO ^^ wow that bought back some memories"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Later on I thought of that one time when I was pregnant and everyone wanted to go do something fun and he stayed home with me, just so I wouldn't be lonely. It was the kind of thing Jake would never have done. Do you understand why I liked him? We hated Chris so much, that we stole the coffee pot and took it into Jake and I's bedroom to sit and have coffee and stay up late. Sans Chris.
He never responded to that. We're done with happy memory time now apparently.
Just as I was getting used to the idea of "talking" to him, he decides we aren't talking again. I used to think maybe he was mad at me, but those comments do not sound like someone who is angry with me. It just doesn't make sense, which we all know really pisses me off. When something sucks, I would at least like it to make sense.
The other comment?
It was in response to my blog about my three choices bringing me to where I am now. That whole..I've really grown up thing. I wanted my cousins to get some sense of who I am, and didn't really think much beyond that.
His comment:
"Wow Des,
I already knew most of what you were writting as I was reading it, I guess I
just never really thought about any of it.
You are a much wiser person than I ever gave you credit for."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ok, this one was more open to dissection. WHAT? He didn't think I was wise? But he does now?
That's the most backhanded compliment I've ever received. Does this mean had he known that I was more mature than he thought, that things might have been different? Not that I want them to be, I'm totally happy. But the one thing that I always wondered about was if he went to Laura cause she was older. She was crazier too, but more mature? I always thought of her as being less mature. And maybe that's it? Maybe he needed someone he can play with?
(I'm such a pervert)
I was a little irritated, because HELL YES, I AM WISE. I've always been, ass. But I responded:
"I try. Someone said something the other day about "The more I learn, the less I know."
I agree with that. I feel like I know more than when I was a teenager, but at the same time, I'm less likely to be sure about it.
If that makes any sense."
And again, a surprise response, though this one wasn't too weird.
"Its because you know that your no longer invinceable, and that you can be wrong.
I think when we're younger, we dont relize that we can be hurt by our actions, that we dont know everything and that , as a whole, were pretty ignorant."
I said something back about agreeing with that. Derek is a prime example of this theory.
Now I'm wondering if he thought and thought about wording on those comments like I do sometimes. If he scrapped what he originally wrote, and then started over.
Probably not, as that one is a pretty iffy compliment.
Again, we stopped messaging. We're done. But apparently he is reading my MySpace blog? At least a little bit. Again, I have to be really careful of what I say.
I dreamed about him again the other night, after all this.
He was outside my work for some reason? No reason I can think of. But he was kind of far away, in the parking lot. And when he turned, I realized that it was him, but the way he used to look again.
And then I woke up. Fairly innocent, really.
I kind of feel like the original dream was a sort of goodbye. Cause he kissed me, and I said no. And then he had to fucking ruin it and read my blog. Like he actually cares about me. And then I had the other dream, which was less strange than the first, but for some reason makes me feel worse. I don't even know why.
What an ass.
I didn't want to.
We were hanging out, and I think it was a party. Maybe his birthday party? It did just go by.
And everyone was there. His wife, Ben, a bunch of other people.
I think he took some acid? I don't know, but for some reason he started to have a bad trip and he was freaking out. I am the consummate "mommy" for the frying people and so I KNEW that I had to make it better. Somehow I was the person who was going to make it ok, and no one else could.
How stuck up am I in my dreams?
I'm sure in real life, his wife would be the person who could make his whole world ok again.
My idea was to hug him. I'd just keep hugging him until he felt better. And that wasn't a big deal. I hug lots of people and Ben is not (much of) a jealous type. Everything was going fine and he started to feel better.
Then he kissed me.
Not like a full on, tongue kiss, just a peck on the lips.
I was surprised and pulled back. I told him that he should not do that. It wasn't ok for him to do that.
I don't know what his response would have been, cause I woke up right then. As if my own brain was like...get the hell out of this dream. What the hell is wrong with you?
The funny thing is that he looked like he used to look, not like he looks now. I don't think he's very attractive now. Too many piercings in the face area, and some weird mohawk going on.
I am having problems wrapping my head around this dream.
Did I pull back cause I am smart and knew that I love Ben?
Did he only kiss me because he was out of it?
I thought this was all done.
Too many guys who I have been friends with and slept with don't talk to me at all now. When we used to share so much together. We'd talk on the phone for HOURS about Laura. He thought I had some sort of insight into her? Or at least some insight into the female psyche. It's like we weren't ever friends now. We never had deep, meaningful conversations.
Remind me never to fuck anyone else if Ben and I don't work out, k?
Especially if he ends up like every other guy and we can't be friends after 10 years of being friends and 6 years of sharing everything.
The day after that dream, I got some blog comments on MySpace. I was all excited, like hurray. But also thinking...well, I haven't blogged in FOREVER, so someone must be catching up.
I was almost horrified to see that those comments were from Paul.
I didn't remember what I had said, if it was too personal, and I wasn't sure what would actually get a response from him. I've tried numerous times to "talk" to him, but he never answers. I know that he reads any message I send, but he never responds.
I had gotten too drunk on beer last month some time...maybe it was February?
Anyhow. I sent him a message. A perfectly innocent one, but something from the heart. I told him that I didn't know if he cared, but that I missed hanging out with him as a friend.
The lesson? Never drunken MySpace. I might as well plaster something on my forehead saying I'm an idiot. I can't type, I don't often make sense, and it takes to long to get my point across when I do make sense. I used to drunken email him, back when I was still so angry. I'd get drunk and let it all fly. It was stupid, but when nothing made him respond, I got really mean. He finally responded, and I think that was it. I didn't have to try and get him to email me anymore. I was done. Apparently, I need to have the last word? Who knew? *smirk*
But just emailing him wasn't enough, I had to have some feedback, or else it doesn't count as the last word.
So, I see that the comments are from him, and so I scan each entry. Hoping to god that I haven't said something stupid. I got a little lax in censoring my MySpace before my sisters and mom joined up. I figured not many people were actually reading it, and that it would be fine.
After my little panic attack, I realized that it was fine. The first comment was in reponse to my fat blog. The one with the video? I'd link, but let's be honest, I'm really fucking lazy. If you read it, you know what I'm talking about, otherwise you do not.
The comment read:
"As you well know, I believe big girls rule the world, mostly because most big girls that ive met seem to be alot more in touch with them selves then thier skinny counterparts.
Its not easy being a big person, and it will never get easier, but if your happy with your self, and the people who love you are happy with you, then FUCK EVERYONE ELSE ^^
Life is to short to worry about other people expectations and predjudices"
-----------------------------------------------------------------
As with almost anything he ever wrote, or said to me, I dissected it. Or at least thought it over a LOT before I wrote back.
Let's forget that he can't spell, I didn't know this when I "dated" him.
When I mentioned how I always blamed my fat when boyfriends left me, I meant him. He wasn't as fat then as now. And he left me for someone skinnier. It was hard not to justify it that way. So why'd he have to fuck up my pre-conceived notions? What the hell else was wrong with me that he would leave me for someone who he professed to not like.
Anyhow. I let it go, cause getting all defensive at him would not have taken me anywhere. He would have only ignored me more. Instead, I wrote back something fluffy and light hearted. Something that would never let know how shocked I was that he was talking to me. Something that never gave away how I always felt that he thought I was too fat.
"You're quite right. I just have days where I get to feeling bad about myself. Like most people, probably.
But I really loved that video. I wish I knew that girl IRL.
I've always been one of those people who worry too much about what others think.
Even if I don't show it.
(I hope I don't show it, anyhow.) =)"
-----------------------------------------------------------------
I figured that was the end of this blog comment. The end of our pseudo-conversation. Instead, I get this comment:
"the only ppl who could see that (you care about other ppls thought) are the ones who know you best, in that case, I think your pretty safe. Everyone who knows you knows you kick ass Des ^^"
-------------------------------------------------------------------
WTF? We're still talking? This same person who couldn't be bothered to try and hang out with me, to even message me back when I asked him a question, has to tell me that he thinks I kick ass? WTF? WTF?
Seriously, that requires a lot more WTF?'s, but I don't have the time.
This same person who made me feel like crap and like I wasn't good enough has to tell me that I kick ass?
If I'm so cool, how come we never hang out? Ass.
After my initial round of irritation (cause obviously, I'm still irritated, just re-reading it now), I wrote back:
"I do pretty much kick ass. (smug much?) *smirk*
Even if I ain't got no feets. LOL"
(The feet thing is an inside joke. (I had inside jokes with this guy, and I still don't warrant being a real life friend anymore) When I was in the hospital, they gave me drugs. I BEGGED for drugs. Afterwards, I could not feel my feet. So, he'd run around and poke at my feet and then be like..you ain't gots no feet. It was cute. Even months later when the joke would not die in our house, it was cute. I'll always think it was cute, though I did affect mock irritation after awhile. I was like..I DO HAVE FEETS! SEE!)
Also, LOL? It's totally catching on with me. I wasn't one of those people who used to do that, but I do now.
He responds - and if he hadn't, I would have been more pissed off.
"ROFLMMFAO ^^ wow that bought back some memories"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Later on I thought of that one time when I was pregnant and everyone wanted to go do something fun and he stayed home with me, just so I wouldn't be lonely. It was the kind of thing Jake would never have done. Do you understand why I liked him? We hated Chris so much, that we stole the coffee pot and took it into Jake and I's bedroom to sit and have coffee and stay up late. Sans Chris.
He never responded to that. We're done with happy memory time now apparently.
Just as I was getting used to the idea of "talking" to him, he decides we aren't talking again. I used to think maybe he was mad at me, but those comments do not sound like someone who is angry with me. It just doesn't make sense, which we all know really pisses me off. When something sucks, I would at least like it to make sense.
The other comment?
It was in response to my blog about my three choices bringing me to where I am now. That whole..I've really grown up thing. I wanted my cousins to get some sense of who I am, and didn't really think much beyond that.
His comment:
"Wow Des,
I already knew most of what you were writting as I was reading it, I guess I
just never really thought about any of it.
You are a much wiser person than I ever gave you credit for."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ok, this one was more open to dissection. WHAT? He didn't think I was wise? But he does now?
That's the most backhanded compliment I've ever received. Does this mean had he known that I was more mature than he thought, that things might have been different? Not that I want them to be, I'm totally happy. But the one thing that I always wondered about was if he went to Laura cause she was older. She was crazier too, but more mature? I always thought of her as being less mature. And maybe that's it? Maybe he needed someone he can play with?
(I'm such a pervert)
I was a little irritated, because HELL YES, I AM WISE. I've always been, ass. But I responded:
"I try. Someone said something the other day about "The more I learn, the less I know."
I agree with that. I feel like I know more than when I was a teenager, but at the same time, I'm less likely to be sure about it.
If that makes any sense."
And again, a surprise response, though this one wasn't too weird.
"Its because you know that your no longer invinceable, and that you can be wrong.
I think when we're younger, we dont relize that we can be hurt by our actions, that we dont know everything and that , as a whole, were pretty ignorant."
I said something back about agreeing with that. Derek is a prime example of this theory.
Now I'm wondering if he thought and thought about wording on those comments like I do sometimes. If he scrapped what he originally wrote, and then started over.
Probably not, as that one is a pretty iffy compliment.
Again, we stopped messaging. We're done. But apparently he is reading my MySpace blog? At least a little bit. Again, I have to be really careful of what I say.
I dreamed about him again the other night, after all this.
He was outside my work for some reason? No reason I can think of. But he was kind of far away, in the parking lot. And when he turned, I realized that it was him, but the way he used to look again.
And then I woke up. Fairly innocent, really.
I kind of feel like the original dream was a sort of goodbye. Cause he kissed me, and I said no. And then he had to fucking ruin it and read my blog. Like he actually cares about me. And then I had the other dream, which was less strange than the first, but for some reason makes me feel worse. I don't even know why.
What an ass.
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