It’s a quiet and lazy Sunday here at the Nest. The leaves are falling down, the wind is blowing, the weather is finally calling for long sleeves, hoodies, beanies, and long pants. All of which are my favorite things in the world to wear. I’m doing all that I can to keep myself from drowning in my own thoughts.
I’ve splashed my hands in peppermint oil. I’ve got the soundtrack from Nier Automata playing as I type. I’m brainstorming how to properly word how two lovers actually “Netflix and Chill” in a story that I began writing two weeks ago and left at 593 words. I’m choosing to write when I could be studying for this exam that I have tomorrow afternoon.
The last few days have left me in a daze and I’m doing everything that I can to bounce back from it so I can regain my senses. A few days I posted about how I have this crush on one of my professors. And then I started to think about all my other failed romances. And how at one point there was this recurring dream I’ve had where I did meet the love of my life.
This “Dream Man” is nobody that I know in real life. But he started appearing in my dreams years ago. I can’t quite make out the details of his face. The memory of it is really hazy. But I remember that he was taller than me. He had to be at least 6″0 or 6″1. His skin tone was tanned and light brown colored. I think he was Hispanic or some Mediterranean descent. He had dark hair cut at a short length. His body had a muscular, lean build to it. I remembering imagining him as a swimmer or a runner during his high school years.
I remember the warmth I’d feel when he took me into his arms and held me. I remember the way his lips tasted like something sweet. I remember him always assuring me in those dreams that everything would turn out all right in the end. I remember always feeling happy with him. I remember feeling safe. I remember the whole thing felt like a fairy tale.
I’d imagine the dates we’d have. A walk through this grand aquarium, enjoying ourselves to frequent coffee dates, having a boring evening at a home we’d share together, and how we’d reach the “happily ever after” we both wanted for ourselves.
The dreams and the images came to me after I tried killing myself and I was done with therapy back in 2009. Before that I had the worse luck with romance. But I felt in my bones that this “Dream Man” was the one for me.
I remember thinking that he would be reward if I kept improving myself, if I never fell back into depression again, and if I chose to stay alive. I remember how badly I wanted it to be real. I remember thinking that if I found this “Dream Man” then that would be that; the end of my long journey, the magical solution that would end all things depressing and painful, and that I’d finally be at peace. I’d finally be allowed to be happy.
At some point those dreams stopped. But I still retained those daydreams of date nights complete with dinner and a movie, laughing at corny jokes, fighting over dumb stuff like any normal couple does only to have great make-up sex later.
I still yearn for the “Dream Man” to come into my life and all that comes with it. But now I’m beginning to think that all this time I’ve been wanting it for all the wrong reasons.
I’ve been coming to terms with a lot of things since I started up this blog. I had to pick myself up to go to therapy, to go to class, do the work that needed to be done. I’m the one that found the house to move into, I found the roommates, I was persistent in moving into someplace better than the Cottages. I fought off my “Nightmare Syndrome” day in and day out. I fought my own battles and saved myself. And this isn’t some recent epiphany. I’ve been managing to handle myself for a really long time now, even before coming to Boone. Whereas before I thought I needed someone to save me from my predicaments; mental, emotional, or otherwise.
But no. I managed to do a lot of things on my own when I remember the times where I couldn’t do simple, ordinary things that people unlike me have no problems doing at all. Like learning to cook, being able to write, being able to take chances and go for things. These were all things that I thought were impossible to do at one point. But I made them possible.
Yeah I’ve had my ups and downs, but it made me a better person. It made me stronger. It made me wiser. All that I experienced after the suicide attempt accumulated and made me into the person that I am now. I thought I had that lost that part of myself when I first came to Boone, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. That’s the “old self” I spoke of before. I never lost it. And that proves that I’m not broken or damaged in the way that I convinced myself that I was. And it means that no matter what comes my way I will be all right, with or without my “Dream Man”.
And as for him…I’m going through a lot of personal changes right now. I need to stay focused on me and keep getting better, stronger, and wiser. Because in all honesty the way things are now I wouldn’t date me. Which makes it more crucial that I stay focused on me and work on self love. That’s all I got to say.