Dang it, dream girl.

Last night, I met the girl of my dreams. Unfortunately, I woke up to find that last statement literal. Humorous and disheartening. I barely got to spend any time with her, and I’ve already forgotten some of that. What I do remember is that she enjoyed the  rain and splashing in puddles. She had long semi-curly brown hair (then again, it was raining, so maybe it was just frizzy, doesn’t really matter to me) and an infectious smile with dimples. 

When I was a kid, I occasionally had dreams that I thought came true. Nothing terribly dramatic, I don’t think. Or maybe they were just déjà vu and I just didn’t understand what that was at the time. Childhood memories are terribly unreliable, as are remembered dreams. 

If my life was a movie, at least I could probably presume she would come to life so I could have a real conversation with her. Then I’d probably full in love, and then she would decide that I wasn’t her dream man. And I would wish I’d never had that dream. 

I’ll keep my eyes peeled anyway. 

About these ads

2 thoughts on “Dang it, dream girl.

  1. Michael S. says:

    Too bad it couldn’t go down Scott Pilgrim style where you wake from a dream about her showing up at your door to find her showing up at your door.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s