Fucking fuck, what the fuck.
"Your dreams are so interesting." Yes, they're very vivid, especially right now. That's great, but I wish it would be fun, cool stuff all the time, like the last one I mentioned.
Get rid of the stressful dreams.
Get rid of the dreams where I get sad when reality kicks in and I realize I was asleep. I should have just gotten out of bed at 6 when that happened. Instead I spent the next 4 hours (because the curtains are still extra dark) trying to go back. The dream continued in its way, but was just mangled, sad, and became about not being able to go back.
I don't know why my brain decided to trot Ben out in this manner, who it appears I mentioned here maybe twice, twenty years ago. (sick.) I've had a handful of dreams about intense or new connections with people lately, and I did see a picture of him on instagram a few days ago. Occasionally we'll leave comments, but it's rare. We don't talk anymore, but I'm glad there's somewhere to follow each other. It would be sad to not know where he was. He was one of my first strong internet friendships, and of course, internet crush.
I don't want to go into all the details because I am on my phone, laying in bed, maudlin in the dark, and one-thumb typing gets uncomfortable. Also I'd like to eventually move on from these feelings toward the actions I know are likely to assist, for I have done none today.
Basically, in the dream, we finally met. He was from New Zealand (there was a period I could easily convert those time zones) and eventually moved to Sweden. He was here briefly, but... well, I said I didn't want to go into it, and that includes the real parts.
Anyway, he, his family, and his friends were camping at a lake a ways from here, so I went. His wife was nice and welcoming, the weird/bad elements belonged to the people who ran the campsite.
But what it was.. I was checking in at a desk and he came around a corner looking for me. I know the feeling of looking at a known friend's face in person for the first time, and it was heavy, even with not talking in years. After silly smiles, he put his arm around me without hesitation while I talked to the desk person. It wasn't romantic, but it was close, familiar, comfortable, and he didn't take it away.
I didn't need to say this many details. I will remember it. "Dream about Ben, comma, camping." At the end, I didn't want to go. He sent me with a box I wasn't supposed to open until later and a small note that, by dream logic, was already creased from the many times I'd read it. I ran back to give him another desperate hug before I was loaded into the car by family.
I woke up. It was quick. "Fuck," I said in my chest. I looked at the time. "No, I don't care." So i ground my teeth until 10:30.
I wanted to write to him, but I don't reach out like that anymore - I am a grown up. Our correspondence was pre-gmail and old sites are dead, I don't know where the postcards are - there's nothing to look back on and be wistful about/torture myself with.
And anyway, as much as he was a strong presence, and there are things about him being the main character... it's not really about him, now is it?