You Follow Me?

Maybe I’m the only one, but sometimes I’ll have a moment that is completely unrelated to the moment at hand. Conveniently, there will be no one to witness it but me and the dog. And I’m pretty sure if the dog could say something, she’d say, “So what was that all about?”

While lounging on the living room couch, I’d channel surfed my way into the middle of Wedding Crashers on HBO. A few minutes later, I’d managed to tune out Owen Wilson’s “hey, man, it’s all good” dialogue and I fell into a daydream that literally caused me to stand up, walk to my front door, open it, only to realize that no one was waiting for me on the other side.

I’ve never been one to struggle at daydreaming. It comes quite easily to me and the dreams can be surprisingly vivid. Of course, it’s never delusional… It’s like I get swept away in a story that I’m telling to myself. And it’s at that pinnacle moment of the story, the most impactful part, that forces me back into reality. And I blink, sigh regretfully, and think, Life is not like the movies… At least, that’s what I thought when I opened the door tonight.

Daydreams are worse than sleeping dreams. When you’re asleep, you don’t have a choice and you have no control over what happens. But in a daydream, there’s no excuse. You’re dreaming because you’re wishing for something more than anything else at the time. There’s something you want so bad, you don’t want to tell yourself not to want it. Whatever it is, or whoever… A daydream is simply a means of tormenting oneself, and I’ve been torturing myself for a long time.

My feelings are something I wear around my wrists. Loosely enough for someone to take hold and strong enough to keep me subjected to them. Like handcuffs. Perhaps I would not be so naive, so persuaded, or so romanced if I kept those parts of myself more guarded. Maybe that would keep the daydreaming under control. Should I bottle up and forget about every magical moment I’ve ever heard of, read, watched in a movie, or actually experienced?

I know what you would say.

Sometimes I think daydreams are proof to when there is a part of the heart that is missing, waiting, aching, longing and pining to be filled. While I appreciate all those feelings for teaching me and making me grow, they are altogether painful. And I am very tired of hurting.

Just once, I’d like to open the door and witness the daydream become a reality. Not just for my sake, but for the dog’s as well.

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