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 �what is Man? a miserable little pile of secrets.� - andr� malraux "i desire to live in peace and to continue the life i have begun under the motto, to live well you must live unseen." - rene descartes note random entry image credit design by : ilazarn ikmal powered by : diaryland |
a dream, and how i need to relax.
2010-07-03 @ 10:57 p.m.
i had a dream about the other one, that older man, a couple of nights ago. in the dream i had spilled some sauce, i think it was a red sauce, on his shirt and pants. he was wearing this seventies-era silk shirt in a weird pattern i know he would never wear in real life, and a pair of very light colored khakis. i had some kind of cloth or towel in my hand that was soaked in something that was getting the stain out, but he kept touching me and pulling me close to him, and i was giggling and pressing my body against his, and i was so incredibly turned on. all the while i was thinking about my boy, though, and how dearly i love him, and how flirting and laughing is one thing but anything further is entirely different. near the end of the dream, i realized that i was wearing only a camisole during this whole experience, and i grabbed my shirt and ran into another room to go put it on (it zipped or buttoned up in the back). someone came around the corner and saw me dressing and him in the other room and immediately accused us of fooling around. i knew we hadn't been, but i felt so guilty and so horrible for betraying the man i care so much about, or at least thinking about it. it was even weirder when i woke up and saw my boy next to me, and i was there, still breathing heavily and smelling another man's cologne in my nostrils. i still feel a little unnerved when i see the other man, but since i am now officially unemployed, it probably won't be for months, or until i go to some function there. i am still aggravated by the fact that both of us are now seeing other people, so suddenly he's interested again. i've never been a woman who enjoyed games, and games are the only language he speaks to me. whatever. my hormones are always playing tricks on me. i am never sure if what i'm feeling is real or not. i guess that brings up an interesting philosophical discussion about what constitutes "realness," but for arguments' sake i'm going to say that real is me when i'm not freaking out and worrying about stupid shit. tonight i cried at the end of monsters, inc. what is wrong with me? he went to spend two nights with his son, and i suppose i am kind of upset about that not because i don't want him to see his son, but because we had sort of a bad day yesterday as far as moodiness goes and i saw it as an "escaping from you" sort of thing more than a "i want to spend more time with my kid" thing. i should probably just stop being stupid because he had this entire week off and probably thought, "well it's the summer, i'm not doing anything tonite, so i'll go see him," and he did nearly sweep me off my feet with a wonderful kiss earlier in the day, but sometimes i just can't stop myself. my insomnia has been a real issue lately as well. perhaps i'm freaking out because i spend so much time awake. my body wants 9 hours of sleep, but my brain, when left to its own devices, can only give me 4 or so. does exhaustion make you paranoid? or is that just a character flaw? |