#7 I had this dream about him

It’s me in the thumbnail. I just really liked this picture, you could say I felt Instagram-worthy. Whatever.

So, last night, I had the weirdest dream I’ve had in a while. Trust me when I say that I do dream of unexplainable things. What’s even worse is that it felt incredibly real.

To summarize the unimaginable events created by my brain, I realised how complex feelings can be in vivid dreams. At some point in my surreal universe, I was sitting on my crush, doing his makeup, only to remove it a bit after. This is where is gets real. I was casually caressing his face with makeup wipes and micellar water and – I swear to God – I had some brief seconds of intense I’m-so-in-love-with-this-man emotions. Every small detail of his face was more than perfect in my eyes. Asleep or not, I was able to feel his skin on my fingertips, his small beard slightly attacking them. His eyes and the way he observed what I was doing was all I could ever dream of. No pun intended. I saw him smile and I felt myself smile, too.

Call me crazy, but I was perceiving just how in love I was (and I still am).The powerful desire  of having such closure turned something imaginary into a fake reality (?) – I cannot describe it in any other way; it was real, but it wasn’t – that messed me up.

Can you imagine seeing your impossible wish become true, only to wake up minutes after?

I felt how glued I was. I felt the way we looked at each other. I felt his warm, slightly anxious breath while I was concentrating on his features. I felt his smile, and finally, I felt how he was in love with me. Which he isn’t, and this is where I chime in stating the obvious on why waking up was such a tragedy for me: because I was living in the Universe where the impossible became possible – in my brain.

It gets a little bit cliché when I say how it went on: he wanted to return the favour and do my makeup. It turned out to be a total disaster, as I was transformed into a hot, orange mess with contouring and blush in all the wrong places. “If I looked like this every single day, no one would ever love me,” I clearly remember saying while looking in the mirror. I also reckon hearing a faint, sarcastic “Yeah, sure…“. Tl;dr on the continuation, he sat on my lap and repeated the process he saw me doing on him when I was wiping the makeup off of his face and getting lost in his eyes, he made me bite my lip seductively and it took me longer than normal to realise, and – oh – he kissed me. Yeah. And I keep wondering why this dream was such a tragedy to wake up from.

Why couldn’t this just be like any other dream I’ve had and disappear a second after I open my eyes?! Right, because the brain remembers what it wants to remember. It doesn’t matter if it does you well or if it hurts you. As long as it’s something it senses it’s seen before, it keeps it (and trust me when I say it’s seen this big guy a lot in my daydreaming). God, even while I’m writing this, all that pops up in my mind is that moment, on repeat. Everything. Just how incredibly smooth his complexion was. How deep the blue in his eyes was shining. How perfectly his lips curved into a shy smile at my trembling touch.

Fuck, I’m so in love.

Unrelated, but one thing I’ve noticed about myself (and it was confirmed by a very close friend – thanks, Alex) is that it takes a lot – A LOT – to make me unlove someone I fell for. Imagine only how much I’ve been through, yet here I am. My emotions are a bit scratched, yes, but very, very stable. I guess I simply don’t quit that easily.

For whatever reason, I’m writing about my dream. I don’t know. I seems pretty fascinating to me how it’s yourself who has such an effect on…well, yourself. Since it’s not like someone else creates our dreams, right? Imagine if we dreamt things others want us to dream. I’d keep praying it was him who helped me with this one. Maybe he is going to read this entry. Maybe, he isn’t (I don’t know which of those I want).

Anyway, I hope at least some of you can relate.

Good luck.

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