Special Secret Dream Postings...

*whispers* shhhhh

I had a dream last night that I was involved with (in the romantic sense) the lovely funny charming Dave Gibson. I know. I'm actually crying tiny real tears as I type this, because dreams is it all will ever be. Well not that I've approached the subject with Dave, but that would end in big tears if I know my luck. Silly ain't I? I barely know the poor chap.

It was a lush dream though. It has made me all nostalgic, it reminds me of the dreams I used to have about the ex I never quite got over. Last night's dream (as with the ones featuring the ex) was set in parts in a non-specific shared house. The only time I ever lived in a shared house was in University. A long time ago. My dreams often play out in them though. The dream wasn't rude, I can't even remember any kissing or owt, I was just Dave's girlfriend in it in a really cosy happy way. 

I kind of half woke from the dream, disappointed to realise I was in my flat and I was all alone, but somehow like in those rare special dream moments I found my way back to sleep and back to the dream for a bit more time as girlfriend Gibson. There was some boring plot about lost mobiles/disappearing caravans - ha ha ha. I only just remembered, OK, yeah, the plot wasn't that dull, in fact it was quite funny (peculiar) ...

... At one stage I'd been staying in a caravan!?! Dave and I went back to the field where my caravan should have been and the owner of the land had had my van removed. At this point, I pinched myself that the lovely funny charming Dave Gibson would even consider going out with someone who was essentially a gypsy*, a caravanless gypsy at that! (ahem - self image issues?) He seemed perfectly ok with it all though. 

Where the caravan had been, the owner had left my purse and my mobile and possibly a few other key items one wouldn't want to be without. That was a relief for me. Never mind that most of my other possessions had been in that caravan. Or had they?  I never quite know where I live in dreams. I often have more than one home and worry about forgotten pets or why is that other home sitting empty now??? Am I paying rent and a mortgage? What the feck?? So anyway, Dave and I set about finding out where the van and my belongings had got to. Perhaps the shared house bits were where he lived. Who knows. 

Being his girlfriend was the lush bit. It seemed unlikely in the dream even, but he seemed to be quite into me. Sweet. 

So what with the nostalgia triggered off about the ex I never quite got over, I've tapped into myspace and am playing the ex's music now. This is not emotionally productive. If anything, it is very emotionally destructive, but so what f*ckers. I can be melancholy on a Saturday morning if I want. "the broken family band" they nurture melancholy with the best of them. That is for certain!

The dreams about the ex, which were laced with the same - "surely he isn't mine? wow wow wow, oh please never let this happiness end" feelings -  used to end in me realising he had another girlfriend all along. Dreams - hmmm - they really are tightly tangled up in what happens in real life aren't they. (other than the blindingly obvious - neither of these men will ever be into me like they are in dream land.) 

I'm going to have to stop playing tbfb tunes now. It is starting to do my noggin in. 

*gypsy? bit un pc? ah well. traveller then - if you really must.