A famous princess once claimed, “A dream is a wish your heart makes.”
If that is so, my heart is making some STRANGE wishes, and I’m concerned for my heart’s sanity.
In spite of how fine I feel things have been going, I must have some pent up anger/bitterness/whatever-else-have-you lurking around somewhere in the dim corners of my psyche because this morning I woke up furious with the Physicist. I don’t think I have ever before felt downright wrathful toward someone over a DREAM–a dream that, if it had been real, would have taken place two weeks ago.
The setting of the dream was a fictional one-week-after-our-breakup.
In reality, the weekend after we broke up, I auditioned for a small community theater production and have since managed to mitigate much of my down time (during which I would normally be throwing epic parties full of pity) by occupying three nights a week with rehearsals. But in my dream-scape, I did not have this luxury (I DID, however, live in a mansion-esque dwelling, so it wasn’t such a bad trade-off ^_-). Being achingly lonely in my newly-single state, my dream self decided to throw a party.
Apparently, I was also far more of a socialite in my dream because a LOT of people came to this party (What’s the point of living in an EMPTY mansion, right?), and my dream self seemed to know them all. Included in the guest list were several friends who (in reality) live four hours away in Wisconsin. They decided to carpool over; and Jen, a sweet friend who (in reality) also happens to be single (as well as drop dead gorgeous), planned to stay with me for the week following my party rather than returning with them. (Apparently, in my dream, I had a mansion AND a lack of employment responsibilities involving things such as, ya know, showing up to work.)
Also included in the guest list was the Physicist. After all, we had agreed to stay friends, and it was a huge gathering. He was probably lonesome as well and could use an evening of socialization, so I had invited him.
There we all were–Me, Jen with my Wisconsin friends, a mansion full of fictional acquaintances, and the Physicist.
In real life, the Physicist met Jen the day we broke up; but in my dream, they met for the first time at the party. Not wanting to linger too long over conversation with my ex, I introduced them and then made a graceful exit to go mingle amongst the other guests. (I love that I am socially graceful in my dreams ^_^ or at least, I was at this point).
About an hour later, I made my way back to where I had left Jen with the Physicist and found them locked in passionate embrace, engaged in quite the public display of affection.
I should have realized at this point that I was dreaming–as if living in a mansion weren’t enough to tip me off, this behavior is severely out of character for both of them. But no. It didn’t occur to me that none of this was real, and my dream self was understandably distraught.
Protests ran through my head one after another:
*But-But-But-It’s only been a WEEK!!!
*They’ve only known each other for an HOUR!
*How DARE he rebound with someone prettier than me??!?!?!
*It’s MY party–why does HE get to have all the fun?!
*I thought Jen was my friend! Friends don’t do this!
*How DARE they do this in front of me! They least they could do is relocate!
I escaped to the kitchen and wept my tale of woe to a group of college football players (Dude–check it out–dream me knows college football players! ^_^) who happened to be gathered around my huge dining room table (I think they were playing either Killer Bunnies or Settlers of Catan).
After hearing my story and offering a round of hugs, the football players encouraged me to address my concerns to Jen. After all, she is a dear friend, and she would be staying with me for the week. It WAS uncharacteristic of her to jump into making out with a guy she didn’t know, as well as hurtful to me because–well–BECAUSE. It wasn’t like I was OVER him, yet. So I decided to see if I could pry her off the Physicist long enough to go have a conversation.
Some time around this point, the party must have dissipated because there were suddenly far fewer people, and my mansion was relatively quiet. When I walked into the living room, it had been turned into an in-home movie theater, and amid the few other movie watchers, Jenna was snuggled on MY fluffy couch beneath one of MY fluffy brown blankets with MY ex-physicist the way I used to be snuggled up against him.
I was replaced; and dream me was crushed.
(*cue music for “It’s My Party and I’ll Cry if I Want To.” Seriously, you would cry, too, if it happened to you.)
So I did the mature thing, ran to my bedroom, and sent an accusatory text message asking what in the world she was thinking getting all up close and personal with a guy she barely knew, a guy to whom I had been significantly attached only a week before. (She was MY guest, and such behavior just wasn’t polite!.)
This sparked a texting war of Jr. High-esque proportions:
-You have no say in what I do!
-How could you betray me like this?
-He’s FREE to make his OWN choices.
-Aren’t you being a bit promiscuous?
-I’m an adult, and you aren’t my mother! If he wanted to be with you, he’d be with you. He wants to be with ME.
-I can’t believe you would act so selfishly!
etc etc etc.
Simultaneously, I was also texting the Physicist (yet another clue that this was a dream. He doesn’t send texts with his phone, and in my dream, that was all he had on him).
I don’t even remember what his texts consisted of, but my alarm startled me awake, and I woke up fuming–quite literally livid–angry to the point that I felt the need to apologize for how angry I felt over a DREAM.
It took about ten minutes to calm down enough to stop resenting the Physicist for actions that had never taken place.
So what have I learned from all of this?
Well, dream me has definite issues with letting go.
Dream Physicist needs to get a room.
Dream Jen needs to evaluate her life choices.
And real life me? Well, She needs to never again eat a snack right before bed.