Jesus. Didn't expect to find myself back here, but here we are.
Just woke up from a dream. He was in it. I was in his house, only it wasn't remotely his house so I had no idea. I found out literal seconds before I saw him. I don't even remember it being in America! It was a case of "Wait, what??? And he's here??" "Yeah, he just literally got home and walked in and..." As I turn around and there he is, standing in the doorway. Tall. White t-shirt. Jeans. Boots. Gorgeous as ever.
He'd shaved his beard, for work apparently, though I can't imagine him ever doing that 😂 but it was him.
And he refused to talk to me.
We'd said a shocked and slightly awkward hello. I immediately apologised for being there, I'd met one of his housemates out and about as a complete stranger, and she'd brought me home to wash my shirt cause she accidentally got paint on it, so I was standing there in denim shorts and a god damn towel. I'm surprised he recognised me really. Especially given the hair and that I was just there. I'd be the last person he'd expect to just be in his home 😂
I asked if we could talk, and he told me he "didn't want to talk to me." He barely even looked at me. He said that I'd given my number to his kid (definitely did not happen??) and that if he'd wanted to, he'd have called me. He'd have found a way to find me. Which I guess is glaringly true. Thanks brain.
I was so humiliated by everything that I just grabbed my damp shirt and left. I was sitting in my car crying and was about to turn out of the long driveway when he came running out and banged on the window.
He didn't want me to leave. He missed me. He was angry. He was happy. He was confused. He was hurt. But he didn't want to lose me again.
We drove to a quiet spot. He inexplicably had his beard back at this point now that I remember it. Perhaps my brain was scrambling through my memories for his face before and gave me the best interpretation it could on a moments notice and now that it had more time, it was properly him? Iunno. Dream logic.
We drove down a bumpy track he knew into some woodland. Not far, just a couple of roads away. Even dream me knows he'd stay by the woods and nature apparently. He slipped a hand onto my bare thigh whilst I was driving, gripping as if holding me there so I didn't disappear.
We pulled into a car park of sorts, probably for dog walkers. I park up. Turned to look at him.
And then I woke up.
I guess my brain didn't want to try and fabricate that conversation. Or whatever else may have happened. I'm grateful for that. I have a keen feeling of loss already.
What the fuck, brain? Why are you such a cunt to me? I haven't dreamt about him in years 😞 why now? What possible lesson did I need to learn from that? He's very clearly not coming back, and I doubt he's given me a second thought. That was just cruel. Cause now I miss him all over again 😮💨