Last night I dreamed that I was kissing* a good friend of mine--let's call him Wayne, just for kicks--who now lives in NYC. Wayne and I have been good friends since the end of high school, when I had a tremendous crush on him and he had absolutely no interest in me whatsoever. Having been voted "Most Original" (i.e., "Weirdest Person We Still Sort Of Like") I was a little too "out there" for Wayne.**
We've kept in touch and visited some over the years, and last January I went to visit W. in NYC. (He's very smart and successful and lives by himself in SoHo. Riches!) We had a great time, because W. has gotten weird enough to realize that I'm not that weird. (Neurotic, perhaps. But not weird.) There might have even been sparks except that I had just started dating A., and so I was having none of it.
So anyway. Last night, the bizarrely realistic dream. I know it's kind of dumb, but something like this can throw me off for days. I'm tempted to call him--he's been in South Africa (of all places) the last few weeks, and is probably back. But I should probably hold off on that.
*As I've said before, I never get past first base in my dreams, so by my standards this is pretty hot.
**But despite his hideous pseudonym, Wayne wasn't a redneck or a jerk or anything. He was just a Regular Guy.
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