Dream Reflections

Last night I found myself dreaming about B—H—. A few years ago this might not have been so odd considering I dated the guy for about a week-and-a-half, and if nothing else, we were practically inseparable in our group of friends. It’s not like I never think about him, or that I haven’t recently—I mean, he’s still my good friend, all continental separation and ex-boyfriend status aside.

I guess what was really odd was the setting of the dream: my grandmother’s house in Buffalo, New York. Even odder was that, in the dream, the house didn’t belong to my grandmother, but to Vickie A--, my clogging teacher, and wife of Ed A--, artistic director of the folk dance ensemble.

So there I am, with B—, and my G’s house, being hosted by Vickie A--. Not unusually, Vickie wasn’t saying much, and when she did, we could hardly hear it. We spent a lot of time pretending like we knew what she was saying, and trying not to laugh at the shared knowledge we were both totally in the dark.

It got me thinking, as dreams are apt to do. I’m not a big supporter of Freudian theories, but I’m not about to deny that dreams mean something, else why would we have them in the first place?


Ooh—cute boy just sat down on the floor next to me. I’m not saying he’s making any subtle advances or anything, but I wouldn’t mind if he did…What? A girl can amuse herself with silly daydreams, right?


Anyway, in my sleep I was getting all twitter-patted by this boy with whom I broke ties in real life because he had a tendency to say glare-inducing things, was naturally prone to jealousy, and pissed me off with his temper (generally kindled by jealousy). And he always wore that stupid hat. But let’s be real—even if we only dated a week-and-a-half, I liked him a lot longer than that, and I questioned my decision to end our brief affair. Something must have been attractive about him in the first place, right? Well whatever it was, his two-year excursion to Russia gave me time to forget the obnoxious things about him.

In my dream, I mean.

Of course, people are bound to wake up with lingering feelings from their dreams, even if it wears off quickly. A nightmare causes a person to wake up breathing heavily and/or shaking, an abstract dream makes you go, “Whaa—?” So it makes sense to wake up feeling similarly smitten, if that’s how you were feeling in your dream. I’m thinking to myself as I was getting ready, “What if?”

I don’t know what the end of that question is. There are many ways you could finish what if. What if…he comes home and pattering hearts do ensue? What if…he comes home and we’re not even friends anymore? What if…he comes and…we make out? I don't even know. I mean really, the possibilities are endless to finish wretched what if.

For the record, we never did make out. Just wanted to get that out there.