Plastic Guns and Dreams

Isn’t it strange the way our minds interpret things into our dreams? I had a quite interesting dream that I must share. Some people who will read this will understand every single detail that I disclose; others will not understand why I am even disclosing a point in the dream. However, here is the dream I had last night. Before I begin, here is a prequel to the events of the hours prior to me going to sleep to have the dream.

I had two more hours to burn before he came home. I was again going to rely on his roommate to keep me company. I hate holding the roommate responsible for entertaining me. I feel like I am being baby-sat. I think the roommate is a cool guy, I like hanging with him, but he knows I am not here to spend time with him. He knows I did not drop by to say hello to him. He knows it’s me waiting, and taking up time, in his living room. Surfing the internet on his computer, taking up time he could be doing whatever he wants, but cannot, because I am like the pink elephant in the room. I feel slightly uncomfortable in these times. Sure, the roommate does not have to spend time with me in the living room. He can go into his own room and do his own thing, but he is not a rude man, and I respect that about him. So he keeps me entertained, asking me how I am doing, telling me what is new in his life.

That evening I had not yet had my dinner, so I asked the roommate if he would join me for dinner, the meal would be my treat. It is a gift for entertaining me. We went to Applebee’s. We talked about the things we had in common; working, paying bills, breaking up with his ex-girlfriend. He talks about how he though he loved her and how he thought she loved him back. I can sympathize. I thought she loved me too.  We talk about how his friends are different than he is, that we all play around on our “lovers” but he would prefer to remain true to one woman. Secretly, I think he lives vicariously through us. I think he is being caught up in our web. A web of secrets and hush hush whispers. The games of managing time and managing different people. I wish I could put this skill of mine on a resume. I would be promoted to a vice president of some company.

The roommate tells me that he has feelings for this girl.

She is supposed to be a lesbian. She does not act like one in front of him. The chemistry was so apparent one day when I went downstairs and saw those two that I turned around and went back up stairs to take a nap. I was about to interrupt something, but apparently he had not caught on to the signals she was sending.

I give him words of advice. She obviously likes him and he likes her back. Who cares which sexual preference she claims? She seems curious about him. He is not sure if he should make the attempt on her.

Of course, I encourage him. It is just like me to encourage people to look past their horizons. Never wonder again. Know. Placing limits only limits your places.

I know her. She is very pretty. She is one of my friends on myspace. Apparently, she is still in a relationship with her girlfriend. The girlfriend is a jealous blonde-haired woman. I sent the lesbian a “hello” message on Myspace. The lesbian’s girlfriend found it, she got very jealous. The lesbian asks me not to write again to prevent the girlfriend from freaking out.

At Applebee’s, the roommate and I talk over drinks about life. I am feeling a little buzzed. We talk about how he worries that making a pass for the lesbian would make him responsible for her deceiving her girlfriend. I tell him that deceit is not what the third person does, but what the two people in the relationship do to the other. That it takes two to tango.

Of course, this leads to the topic of the deceit I myself have been living. I tell him how I think my lovers “girlfriend” is deceiving herself. How could she not know about me? She found my lipstick on the glasses, my hair on his pillow. She has seen my text messages and found my earrings. They break up and make up and I cannot keep track anymore on weather or not they are together. In addition, I do not care. Cuz I was there before her, during her, and each time after she leaves and comes back. So what difference does it make?

The roommate and I laugh, smoke cigarettes, and talk about the taboo topic of the one time we spent the night together a few months ago. When too much drinking and too much dancing led to too much fun. At the stroke of midnight, we leave the bar and head over back to the apartment. Twelve thirty, and my one addiction I cannot seem to let go off, walks through the door. I come to him and kiss him hello. We sit around the living room an hour or so more and then prince charming and I go upstairs. A little after, we both fall asleep.

Here is my dream I had after we fell asleep. 

The roommate, prince charming and I go to buy a new car for my prince. He scans his credit card to pay for it, it is declined. I offer mine. He convinces me somehow to register the car in his girlfriend’s name. (Dreams never really make sense) we go to Jack in the Box to eat something. His girlfriend found the declined receipt and wonders how he got the car. However, in the dream, she looks like the lesbians girlfriend. She has blonde hair. In real life, she has long black hair, but in my dream, I knew it was her despite the fact that it did not look like her.  She finds out I bought the car for him.

She kidnaps me and takes me hostage. She looks at me and says, “I’m so tired of you. Can’t you just leave already?” she says it in a way that suggests she has always known about me, but has been waiting for me to leave. She is irritated by my presence.

She points a gun at me. It is not a real gun. It is a clear plastic lime green squirt gun. Instead of water, it is filled with my hair. She does not seem serious about wanting to do anything to harm me. The lime green gun is an empty threat. Not quite empty I suppose, it is filled with hair. My hair, the hair that naturally falls out of my head when I brush my hair. She has gathered every hair and she saved it. She put every strand she gathered and put it into the plastic gun.

I tell her how I was there before her. That I never left. That even though I wish it was different, I love him. That I do not know what to do, I don’t know how to leave him.

She says she knows what that feels like. She loves him too.

A knock comes on the door. It is my prince. He does not know she has taken me hostage, he does not know I am there. He came to see her and does not know I am there. He does not know that I am being held hostage by her with a lime green plastic gun full of hair; the silly weapon that is threatening my existence. He comes through the door and he is shocked to see me. he tries to regain his composure when my presence startles him. He tries to avoid showing any reaction on his face. As thought he does not know me.

He tells her he loves her and kisses her on the lips.

She is all stars. I am confused. How? After all I told her about us, could she actually believe him? She looks over at me. Her eyes are searching for a reaction on my face. She wants to know weather or not I am jealous by the fact that he is kissing her and giving her all this attention. I am not.

However, I am confused. I think she is crazy. But then again, so am I. we are in the same situation, after all.

The dream ends suddenly.

I wake up to a knock on the bedroom door. Prince charming cracks the door open. It is the roommate. The roommate missed the bus to work. I roll out of bed and take him to work; it is on my way back to my house anyways.

I tell him about my dream. He laughs at it. I laugh too. Its crazy how all the events of the dinner somehow got interpreted into my dream. The many topics we discussed all night got blended together in my brain and interpreted into this weird mess. The funny thing is that the “mess” in my dream is oddly similar to my very real reality. Not so funny anymore.