Dream Big

I had a dream the other night. It was about a girl. A real girl. A girl I "kind of have a thing for" I suppose you could say. We don't have a relationship or anything like that - we know each other by name, we interact from time to time, and we are friends on Facebook, but that's the extent of it. She has a boyfriend, and myself being an upstanding young man, I would never stand in the way of that. Honestly, I don't believe, even in my most delusional mind, that she thinks of me the way I think of her. Yet still, she popped up in a dream I had the other day. I never tend to remember a whole lot of my dreams, so the details are hazy, but I remember the gist of it, and that is what this whole blog is about today.

See, usually when someone talks about a dream involving the opposite sex, especially a member of the opposite sex that they are attracted to, it is some kind of sexy dream, or a dream where that person is just so overwhelmingly in to you that you wake up feeling like a million bucks. It's something that bolsters your confidence and creates a reality in your dream world that you can never accomplish in waking life. But here's the thing about my dream from the other day: it was wildly awkward, probably just as awkward as I would be in real life. Instead of dreaming of fun sexytimes and what I could do with this girl given the lack of restrictions, relationships, and hangups, what did I do? I awkwardly talked with her for like half and hour, at the end of which I was just as oblivious about her feelings towards me as I am in real life.

So what the hell is wrong with me? Has my subconscious become just as awkward and stammery around women in my dreams as I am in real life? For all my ways with words in written English, for my master's degree in literature, I am absolutely fucking terrible at talking to women. But why should this carry over into my dreams? Shouldn't I be the great Lothario that I always wanted to be in real life? Shouldn't I be witty and charming and suave? Apparently not. Apparently my dreams are pretty much useless in fulfilling any of those desires, even in a dream world of my own creation. Apparently my dreams are trying to tell me that no matter how I try or how far I may go, I will never be that charmer that I would like to be.

Maybe it's for the best. Maybe I'm not meant to be the silver-tongued ladies man. Maybe I will in fact find a girl who doesn't mind the fact that i trip over my words like a verbal Inspector Clouseau. Hopefully, some day my long, mildly awkward pauses wil come into vogue and I'll be every girl's dream come true. But until that day comes, I will continue to be kind of quiet, always short on things to talk about, and a huge fan of telling women I'm interested in that "yeah... you know... I think you're, well.... pretty awesome. And maybe.... some time that works for both of us maybe.... we could, ah, you know, like, get coffee? Or a drink? Or dinner? My treat? I think? Because, yeah, your'e pretty awesome and you're pretty much... you're... definitely almost exactly the kind of person that I want to get a drink or some food with. But if not that's cool." and then quietly slurk away while they are trying to suss out exactly what I'm yammering about.