Dreams of a past self

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Last night, I dreamed about an old…friend? No, that doesn’t quite cover it – an ex “it’s complicated” might be better. The Internet was involved, as were unrequited feelings, hurt, confessions of love, a lot of intensity, some very nice writing, and a couple of online games.

I have, admittedly, been thinking about his old blog recently. He was – presumably still is – an extremely good writer, and his posts were both compelling and entertaining, tackling miscellaneous topics. It was the sort of blog I still wish this one was.

Somehow, though, I had managed to think about his blog without thinking all that much about the author, hence the surprise value of seeing him in a dream. I mean, I’ve encountered men with the same name as him without thinking of him. It once seemed impossible that I would ever be without that jarring mental association.

I don’t regret the direction my life took instead – not currently, anyway. Touch wood. I don’t know, 2016 is proving so rough already and there are still six months left, anything could go down yet. But I did get wondering about him, the what ifs of it all, and what he’s doing now.

One thing I do regret is no longer being the person I was when I knew him, or at least the person he believed I was. I was so keen on anthropology and research back then. I doubt he remembers telling me that I should turn my thesis into a book, but I do, and I wish I had taken his advice.

I’ll probably end up Googling him shortly just to satisfy my curiousity and not find much, because that’s how it tends to go with him. The other thing to take away from that random mental occurrence might be the reminder of who I used to be, and who I wanted to become. Who I still want to become.

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