Dreamers

I had to tell someone about the dream. So, naturally, Gabe was the first person I talked to. I basically went to a college that had a 90% male population. But somehow within the first week of school, Gabe and I found each other. He was secretly harboring male attraction, and I was secretly harboring female attraction, and for some reason, within the first ten minutes of meeting each other, we had disclosed these secrets and were discussing how awesome it was that we had found someone else that was… what? Bisexual? Sure. That worked.



Our group of friends consisted of five guys and me, so most discussions centered on either partying, video games, or girls. Gabe could fit in nicely with these discussions, as he was no stranger to a good party, and he was an avid gamer. A long-term girlfriend had also just dumped him, and that was well known among the group. He could definitely talk about girls with them. But I, on the other hand, was the alone to sit and listen bemusedly as the guys talked on. I didn’t party. I hated video games. And, as far as they (well, most of them) knew, I wasn’t interested in girls.



So it was nice for me, and for Gabe as well, to be able to get together outside of school, outside of the group, and have our own talks. Most days we would switch off according to our moods. We had figured out early on that both of us experienced what we called “gay days”- certain days when we would feel particularly homosexual. Occasionally, Gabe would write me a note in the middle of class saying that he had woken up feeling fabulous and that it was particularly difficult not to notice how incredibly bulging Brian’s biceps were that day.



So anyway, a day or two after I had the dream, I logged on to AIM to see if Gabe was online. He was there. “Hey,” I said. “I have a story for you.”



“Ohh?” He said. He thought it was something juicy. Anytime I ever said I had a story, he expected it to be something exciting. We had a pact that if we had any gay experiences- even anything insignificant like a flirtatious encounter, we would share. Unfortunately, I never had anything interesting to share.



“I had a dream about a girl,” I said.



“OoOoOoOoo. details.”



“It wasn’t a sex dream.”



“oh.”



“But it was fantastic. It was amazing. Like. I fell in love with this girl.”



“who was it?”



“I don’t know. She doesn’t exist, I guess. Which sucks.”



“what did she look like?”



“She was so gorgeous. She had reddish-auburn hair, green eyes… she had the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen. But I can’t remember her face. As soon as I woke up, it was gone. But I fell in love with her. And I think she loved me too. It was so perfect. Until I woke up. Because I realized she didn’t really exist.”



“yeah, that sucks. so what was happening in the dream? was it realistic?”



“Oh man. It was incredibly realistic. It may be the most realistic dream I’ve ever had. I still feel like someone that I’ve known for a long time and loved has died. Like. I’m in this terrible funk and I have been for days. I feel so… empty inside. But yeah… anyway. It was really random. I think my mom was having a meeting with her parents for some reason, which is why I was over at her house. And I think my grandma was there too. Yeah. She was there. I remember that she randomly took my cell phone and hid it somewhere. Weird. And I remember meeting the girl’s brother. He was talking about his blonde girlfriend. Oh, and get this- here’s the weird thing. She could read my mind.”



“wait, the girl? like. really? like, she could really read your mind?”



“Yes. She could really read my mind. I have no idea how I figured it out. She didn’t tell me or anything. And I don’t exactly remember when in the dream I realized that she was hearing my thoughts. But at some point, I just remember thinking… she can read my mind. And then immediately thinking, oh, crap. That means she knows that I’ve been thinking how adorable she is this whole time. But then I realized that she was smiling and acting fine, and that there was nothing I could do about it anyway. So I just decided to let go of myself and let her know how beautiful I thought she was.”



“haha. nice.”



“Yeah. Of course, I would never do this in real life.”



“of course.”



“Which I think is why she could read my mind in the dream, honestly. I think I figured it out. Because you know, if she was just a normal person who couldn’t read my mind, nothing would have happened. But because she read my mind and knew that I was attracted to her, it forced me to say what I felt. And because of that, I realized that she felt the same way, and we fell in love and it was fantastic. You know? I can never tell girls how I feel in real life. So she had to read my thoughts in the dream for it to work out. It’s kind of sad, really.”



“yeah. um, you know what i think?”



“What?”



“i think it’s time that you get out there and find an actual girl. you know. one that exists.”



“But. I don’t want one that exists. I want her…”



“well. you can always hope she exists.”



“Trust me.”