I woke up from a dream. And every dream of you feels like a memory, that future me is looking back on. We’re not in real time, or rather our minds are not. We look as we do now, older than we did in our youth, our laughter is deeper, a depth that comes with age as the sound of carefree giggles grow an edge. But I always know it’s you before I see your face in my dreams because I can feel it in the crook of your arms as it lay across my shoulders, or around my waist. I can smell you on your gray t-shirt, the cotton soft against my skin. Dream me could have my eyes closed, and I would still know it’s you. And you always come at times when, when I don’t know if I’d need you or not if it were a choice. But if you were standing in front of me, and had the capability of reaching me, like fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen year old us? Then I wouldn’t walk away. I’d stand there. I’d look into your eyes. And I wouldn’t walk away. I don’t know what words could pass between us now. But so many times, we didn’t need them. We spoke in silence. We spoke in the rise and fall of breaths, in a lazy afternoon. We spoke in the stillness that settles over the room, and we both just listened to one another’s thoughts in the quiet. Dream you laughs raucously like the years haven’t taken toll on who we are, or how we see the world. Your cheek has stubble that faintly scratches my chin as you tilt your had back in waves of laughter. I kiss your cheek and the prickly hair tickles my lips. We ride down an open road, in a convertible that would never suit either of us in real life, but in a dream, we know only that sleek yellow car that lets the sunshine splash our faces, and we’re the only ones on that stretch of asphalt. I don’t know where we were going, and it didn’t really matter. We never did know, anyway. Even if we tried to decide. Those decisions weren’t ours for the making. I awake with the faint distant knowledge of your haphazard curls beneath my fingers, and your whispered breath on my neck from swapping secrets. Sometimes, I like to think our younger selves sent these dreams to our older selves, to remember what it was like to be loved so innocently in a time before we were tainted by what was to come. The wise sliver of my being knows it better to relish in a false memory those first few moments upon waking, than to go digging in the past to retrieve you to occupy a space in present life.
Passing somewhere through the middle of Georgia, after we finally found a rest stop. Bonnaroovians padded slowly down the same sidewalks, sleepy eyed and dazed after days of adventures. I watched a dark haired boy reach his tanned hand through the bars shielding the vending machine, attempting to retrieve some kind of snack. The moms dragging their toddlers across the slick restroom floors, didn’t know how odd it seemed to be using a bathroom with lights and flushing, and running water in the sink. We’d grown accustomed to the plastic box life of portapotties, and keeping a roll of toilet paper in your backpack, and following the path to a dusty street in early morning light. This early morning light was different. We were still alive with possibility, but sleep was battling for my brain waves and all my thoughts started to get hazy in the struggle to resist. I may have nodded off for a few minutes. I may have surrendered to the dreamy thoughts, not ready for all our beautiful moments to start the transformation into memories, a distance that can’t be crossed once it’s been created. I could only think of this land, a paradise carved out from the rest of the world where worries can’t reach you, and every stranger is a new friend to be made. The stories of these gorgeous people, and their journeys and their exquisite passion for life resounded in my ears lulling me to sleep. When I awake, my dreams weren’t real dreams, they were revisited thoughts of the same things I was pondering before I took that snooze. My mind is littered with the sensation of wet grass beneath your feet, moonlight bathing an open field in a soft glow, and the ease that accompanies life and the people you entwine yours with when you are absolutely, positively yourself. Love in its purest form because there’s no space for anything else.
It doesn’t seem to matter what phase of life we’re in, middle school, high school, college, post-college – things don’t change that much. (I would say people are the same, but I know deep down we’re really not or that would be so boring!) By this I mean, I don’t think it matters how simple something starts off as – people always seem to be looking for more. If something begins on a kind of platonic level, I always find that the simplistic, basic, normal level of things doesn’t seem to last long. Maybe I give off some kind of vibe I am unaware of, but this is has happened my whole life. (Until you know you meet a person that you want to have a non-platonic relationship with, and they don’t see it the same way. So it goes, right?) But really. I mean, why can’t a straight guy and a straight girl just be friends without some kind of underlying expectation? I for one, have always operated using The Butterfly Test. Sure I’ll hang out with someone with an open mind, but if I don’t feel it, if it’s not there it’s the truth when I say I’m not going to miraculously develop feelings for you later.
Maybe I need to just start posting Craig’s List Missed Connection ads. Would it be totally creepy to write something like “Hey! Bearded guy running down Thomasville Road on Tuesday around 630pm in front of the bike shop. I liked your pace, wanna run sometime?” Yeahhh, and that’s probably how you meet the serial killers…
I’m driving home from work, rambling to the ever-faithful listener, my mom about how maybe I just don’t like anyone? (Not like as a human being, but in a romantic context.) Then I see someone running down the street and blurt out how they’re pretty cute. And of course, this is better than just some stranger you see in a parking lot somewhere because I can already deduct that we have running in common. Then about .7 seconds later I see my ex-boyfriend pulling out of a local park. Surprise! That seems very typical of life, and the weirdness of the way things happen.
All of my dreams this week seemed to revolve around weddings in one way or another, which is completely strange. Sure I have two to attend coming up (one at the end of May, one at the end of June,) but really? Why so on the brain? Earlier in the week I dreamed that I was a bridesmaid in a friend’s wedding for the second time. I didn’t know the groom. It was a chaotic ordeal. I felt really uneasy about the whole thing. Then I was talking to a friend about her own wedding in the dream, that I was in, which didn’t happen in real life. (You know like your subconscious creates fake memories?) Then last night I dreamt that I was wandering around in my compression socks (they’re obnoxiously hot pink and bright) and I wasn’t even running which was so weird, and I was apparently looking for a wedding date? I got set-up with one of my male friends who is gay, at the same time as I got set-up with a stranger. It was just, weird. Completely weird. I woke up kind of disoriented.
It all makes it sound like I really have relationships on my mind, but honestly I don’t. You know what I’ve been thinking about lately? Friendship. I have some incredible friends in my life, but they are scattered everywhere. Literally. So, I don’t get to see them as often as I’d like. (I’m working on this because money is just money, and who ever knows how much time they have? And I don’t want to be sitting here saying “I wish we could’ve hung out just one more time.” Though don’t we always wish that when the inevitable happens?) But really time goes by and as we get older some of my friends are settling down into a different life. Getting married, having babies, real jobs that mean you can’t just take off days and days of work for some exotic spontaneous trip…And it makes me ache a little because although in some people’s worlds it doesn’t seem to work like this, in mine it has – it feels like as these life changes happen, new boundaries are drawn, and I feel confined to small little boxes in each relationship. And I get it. There’s an appropriateness to things, certain parts of life have to change because we aren’t who we used to be when these changes come. And most of my friendships have always had this weird dynamic, a certain energy that buzzes in the air, that’s heavy with an intimacy not of the physical type, but in the connection – the depth of the heart. And I know these can’t carry on when others are added to the equation.
But lately, I just miss what it’s like to pile in a car and drive around, adventuring. I miss cramming on a couch having movie nights, (or Olympic nights, or Degrassi nights haha.) I miss sprawling across beds staring at the ceiling, talking about life. The future a fuzzy cloud of uncertainty in front of us, imagining the possibility. I miss sitting on kitchen floors with my feet tucked under me, giggling at everything and nothing. Feeling like in that moment, I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I miss going on walks in the still of the night, only the light of the stars shining down, and the things that only go spoken in the safety of the dark. I miss making pancakes at random times of the day. I miss the way that music sounds different when you’re listening to it with someone else, as it fills the space between you in a room.
There are certain people who just know me like no one else. The silence is comfortable. The laughs are the deep kind that make your stomach hurt. Lately those relationships just feel far away, and like they’re slipping through my fingers. I know the tone changed here, but the thing is I’m not really looking for what people probably think I am. It’s not about boyfriends or romance. It’s that sense of companionship, a partner, sharing experiences with people who get it. This is the stuff I’m carrying around all day. It makes me smile because I’d have to know the happiness of such moments, to miss them but it gives me heavy boots to feel the weight of it, too.
You might remember back in October I posted about a little day-trip my friend Megan and I took (Saturday at Seaside.) Well, I hadn’t shared any photos from that day, so I figured now would be a good time!
Unfortunately I forgot my camera in my car that day, but here are a few instagrams and mobile photos:
Yay for all our snack times being outdoors this day. View from Sonic 😉
See how cute is this building?!
Nothing like eating a plate of raw oysters, on a breezy porch in North Florida.
Genius idea for a condiment container!
Tiramisu gelato, mmm!
See that gorgeous sunset? Perfect day.
Views like this always make the TV nerd in me think of the first season of The OC.
The waves were a little rough…
Meghan & Megan!
I see the moon and the moon sees me!
One of my favorites…(when I took this some kid probably about 13 commented on my shirt choice for the day and a mom was trying to pose her family together to take photos on the ledge. A lot of amusing entertainment surrounded us, haha.)
Love the feel of this little independent music store…
The deck had a great view of the lights and what was left of the sunset sky…
I felt like Penny Lane…
I always tell the girls, never take it seriously, if ya never take it seriously, ya never get hurt, ya never get hurt, ya always have fun, and if you ever get lonely, just go to the record store and visit your friends.
(This photo has nothing to do with the post, except that it’s from the last time I was at the beach – a windy, stormy, cloudy day. I think it’s fitting for a reflective post.)
Yesterday, I was filing some old jobs in the storage room and a thought came to mind that I immediately figured must have been from a dream the night before. (Though I should have recognized from its pleasant nature, that it was real life. None of my dreams have been very sweet lately.) It was just a glimpse of a memory, sitting next to someone on a front porch. Dusk settling into the evening, casting shadows on the street in front of us. Knees brushing, sitting side by side. A cold bottle of beer in my hand. Laughter, the deep kind, that slowed down as the words started to flow in hushed tones, as the conversation turned more serious. Not serious in a boring way, just serious in that way where after hours of talking you know you’re sharing things in a bit more thoughtful way. The words are still flowing, but both sides of the conversation are listening deeper. It’s the way we know we’re revealing a layer of ourselves. My heart swelled when I realized it wasn’t a dream, but rather a sweet moment that occurred a month or so ago which I’d tucked away somewhere in the back of my mind. It wasn’t infatuation that made me appreciate that moment, but I was happy to be reminded that these special connections are still occurring in my life no matter how few and far between. Times like that are my favorite. If every weekend was full of quality encounters like that, I would be extremely content.
(I know, I know you’re probably thinking “isn’t it Throwback Thursday?” We’ll get to that later alright?) We all think our own dreams are weird/interesting/cool right? I blog about them enough that you probably already know I think that about my own. This was a really good one, so good that I dreamt it on Sunday night and I’m still thinking about it. I wish I could insert photos of the dream world imagery here to share with you. Fall foliage, flannel, beautiful architecture, picturesque hand-holding.
I was living in New England, and had a pretty tight knit group of friends. And the best dream-world boy friend ever. I mean, seriously. If I didn’t invent this person in my mind, we should probably meet and fall in love like yesterday. But really, everything about this dream was pretty fabulous. We lived in a small town, and there was a college campus we’d take long walks through (though I don’t think any of us were students anymore.) The yards were filled with gorgeous fall foliage, colored leaves sprinkling the ground, crunching underneath the weight of our boots. It was cool out, enough that we wore scarves and sweaters. We had a big group lunch in a restaurant near the campus that was in the basement of this super old building (so of course the lighting was awesome, and the room was all exposed brick.) My fictional boyfriend bought my lunch, and I had a Guinness. (Yes, this is how clearly I can recall this dream. The details probably aren’t exciting to anyone else because it’s not like I got to ride on the back of a dinosaur, or was involved in a high speed chase but to me this was all pretty neat.) Lizzi and I were roommates and had a really sweet loft apartment. My room was at the top of the stairs, and had a little balcony. We were all getting ready to go out and meet up with some people at the market, and I got an awesome bear hug by my super tall fictional boyfriend who was wearing the softest plaid shirt ever.
Anyway, I’m pretty sure I need to go to New England.
Because I’m sure you love to read about my dreams, as much as I love to ramble about them. (Oh, c’mon just kidding guys!) Really though, when I woke up this morning and I was still in that hazy not completely awake place, it occurred to me just how awesome my dream was last night, and I wished that I could crawl into dream world and spend the day there.
The dream started off in a beach house, where we were discussing the local running shop we worked at (sweet gig right?) There was a girl from my hometown I never particularly got a long with, (but she’s a really good runner,) and apparently in the dream we were friends. A couple other girls were in the living room (I guess we were all housemates?) The chatting continued until I went to get ready for the day. I don’t really remember any transitional moment, but the next thing I knew I was on the beach in South Carolina with my friend Leah. I was BFF with Andrew McMahon, who was accompanying us. We had a big umbrella, and this little tiki hut with picnic tables we were hanging out under. We spent the day building sandcastles, splashing in the waves, taking funny photos, and drinking fruity beverages. The (Tallahassee native) band Mayday Parade was hanging out with us too, except the members weren’t the same as real life, and they were all super young and super friendly. They played a set on the beach (all from the A Lesson in Romantics album) and we all cheered for them. I mean, there wasn’t a whole lot more to it, other than the beautiful simplicity of what it was. Now, if this just translated to real life, that’d be nothing less than wonderful!
How about you guys? Any awesome dreams you were excited to remember? Share with me in the comments!