My Psycho Psyche

I'm updating twice this week, mostly because I just had to call in sick and I'm home in bed with a blocked ear (things you shouldn't fly with: a blocked ear) and nothing better to do.

Also, I'm updating because my subconscious is getting a little out of control.

Look, I realize I'm lonely. That's normal. There are times when being single is a lot of fun, and I am totally comfortable and confident with just being my awesome self, by myself. And then there's other times, times like right now in which I just straight up feel lonely and really miss the companionship of having a boyfriend.

I know, congratulations, Self, on single-handedly undoing the feminist movement. Except that we all know I don't believe that, that I have very firmly stated that there is nothing wrong with the desire to have love in your life.

Have you noticed that this post already sounds like I'm arguing with myself? That's probably a pretty accurate depiction of what's going on with me lately.


I want to see Mr. Charming (more on that later) but I have absolutely forbidden myself from talking to him.

I don't want to have anything serious with Mr. Suburb, but I'm still sitting around hoping he'll ask to take me to dinner. (And secretly hoping I'll be convinced it's worth trying to date someone from the 'burbs after all? You decide.)

I want nothing to do with Mr. Mess, but I find myself missing the relationship I once had with him.

I'm a self-assured person who rationally knows I don't need a boyfriend to feel whole, but I'm having recurring dreams featuring random men of my history being in a serious relationship with me.

…yeah, that last one's a doozy, right? As a matter of fact, my subconscious has been a bit out of control lately. First of all, a few weeks ago, I started having some rather suggestive dreams (nothing R rated, sadly—I know. I'm as disappointed as you are.) which left me feeling surprised when I woke up alone. I don't know if you've experienced that sensation, by the way, but I don't recommend it. It's frankly disappointing and pretty miserable.

So then a few nights ago, fully conscious, I was suddenly seized with a desire to do something stupid: I wanted to text Mr. Charming. I wanted to text message someone who is literally listed in my phone as "Don't You Dare Text Him." Now, fear not. I had no desire to booty call a man who drops off the face of the earth with no explanation. I have just been wound so tightly lately that I really wanted to blow off some steam. I wanted to go dancing or drinking or both. And who better to take with me than Tall, Dark, & Handsome himself? I literally spent the entire night talking myself out of it.

At the gym the next day, I told Mags about my unwise inclinations and she mostly laughed. As she pointed out, though, it wasn't as though I'm harboring delusions of a relationship with Mr. Charming anymore. Maybe I could use a more casual relationship, if you will. Okay, that's not the terminology she used, but you can fill in the blanks.

Of course, as the man who's already rejected me, Charming would not be the ideal candidate for such a relationship, given that if I did reach out to him at this point, and oh, say, he never replied, I'm pretty sure my offense/rage would look something like Mount Vesuvius blowing its fuse. No, no need to set myself up for a second round of rejection.

Also, my subconscious seems to have rebelled at the idea of a casual fling. I've started having married-couple style dreams now, last night's being the most memorable. Partly it was so distinct because of my co-star: a random coworker from over 3 years ago when I worked at a fitness center teaching swim lessons. And don't get excited, friends. This is not someone I had any romantic history with, or, indeed, even a real friendship with. We got along quite well at work, I ran into him once on the El after finding out I was moving to Dallas temporarily for two months of flight attendant training. That's about it. That's our history.

Now admittedly, he's a very nice guy, good with little kids, and, now that I think about it, pretty cute. So apparently my psyche decided he was perfect husband material. Because I had a full-blown dream about being married to this random face from my past. I woke up feeling the usual lonely disappointment, followed swiftly by confusion and the thought I don't even remember his last name wtf?

I'm tired. I have enough on my plate without worrying about my currently deteriorating love life, and now to cap it all, I'm sick. I really don't need these dreams messing with my head and making it difficult to get out of bed in the morning. More difficult than it already is, that is.

I wish I knew what the cure for all this was. How do I flip my brain around to feel happy about being single for the time being? I'm about to go on vacation this month, and my mother and I are going to Europe. I would like to enjoy that little jaunt sans the psycho dreams, please. And soon after that I'm going to begin training for the new gig at work. I really want my head screwed on correctly in time to focus on that properly.

I don't have a witty sentiment to wrap this post up, any more than I have a solution to my problems. I guess I'm just going to have to wait this one out and hope the nonsense passes sooner than later.