This is not going to be one of those posts.
Where I glamorize my single status, and brag about how much money I’m saving not going out to a fancy dinner or buying lavish gifts for the woman in my life. Where I act as if I were the Scrooge of St. Valentine’s, and put up a macho front about how I don’t need it, and it doesn’t need me. Where I expend an extraneous count of words to describe how depressed I am because there’s nobody in my life in that way. Where I make bold statements and predictions that next year will not be spent alone.
No, this is a post where I say I brought in Varentines Day, as the clock passed midnight nursing bottle after bottle of booze in the company of good people, while feeling good about dressing nice for a night out. I laughed a ton, drank a little more than would be deemed necessary, and had a fun time. Nothing pessimistic about that.
But since I’m still a romantic at heart, I’ll get in the Varentines mood, and share this little story, a post I wrote a little while ago, but didn’t post it, because I was in the midst of switching to my WordPress.
Originally written on January 29th, 2010
The other night, I had a dream about a girl I know.* The catch is that this girl is already with someone else in reality, and for the matter, I get along fine with that someone else, too. Normally, I don’t tend to remember my dreams, as I’m more likely to forget them as soon as I step in the shower, or when I go for a morning jog. But this one, I did remember, and why I’m deciding to share it in text is beyond me.
Because obviously, to anyone who knows me, is remotely aware of the people I associate with, this could create some curiosity. I don’t think I’d be willing to forfeit this knowledge any time soon, either.
But it’s not like it was some raunchy sex dream or anything; in fact, it was quite the opposite. Think more like (500) Days of Summer kind of romantic frolicking around like careless youths, running around in public doing silly things amidst the people around us. Some would think of us as just friends, but anyone actually watching with their eyes open, would see that there was more than just friendship going on.
Okay, I’ll be the first to admit just how cornball-putrid these past three paragraphs were, and there’s something about sharing personal thoughts like that, which makes me extra careful with my choice of words, and in the end, it doesn’t work out for the best if I were to name names. But it was a dream that I had, that I wasn’t unhappy with, and I’ll be the first to admit that there are plenty of girls in my life I’d wish to be able to have been able to meet before the other guys in their lives, but didn’t, because that’s life.
*it’s not the one I live with
