Man Of My Dreams

Someone has been watching me from the margins of my consciousness. I don't mean a character in my dreams whom I have invented out of my natural creativity. I mean someone real, whom I have never met. He doesn't interact with the other people about whom I dream, including myself. He doesn't look at me the character, he looks at me the author, the one dreaming. And it seems like he is looking into my literal eyes, even though they are closed.

I almost feel schizophrenic. I don't mean that I suffer from multiple personality disorder; that is a common misconflation. The two diseases are not the same. Schizophrenics do not have other personalities, they hear and see things that are not real. That's how I feel: as though I hear a real voice that isn't there (which I don't, but it's the same creepy feeling, I'm sure).

He wears a grey sweater and a blue and white ballcap with a large "A" on the front. Dee-Dee says the A stands for "Angel," that he is my guardian spirit. I don't really buy that, but I can't discount it altogether either. It would be nice to know that there is somebody looking out for me. In fact, what would be really nice is a significant other whom I could trust to catch me if I stumbled. It doesn't feel like I'm allowed to stumble right now; there is no cushion, nobody upon to whom to lean. I had a date with a guy whom I think is pretty awesome last week, and I decided to really let him have the full experience of me in all my intensity and passion. I don't mean that we got jiggy, I simply mean that I decided not to ease him into the experience of Brandon, but to let him have the whole three-ring circus. Now he won't return my calls.

Surprisingly, that is A-OK with me. If he can't take even one date's worth of Brandon, surely he would be reduced to rubble after a week. It's not that I am high-maintenance or dramatic, it's just that I have so much energy and momentum, and I live life on such a huge scale, that men are intimidated. The question in the back of my mind is, naturally, "Should I hold back? Should I make myself a gradual experience instead of a sudden one?" And for now the answer is no. The mode of being which I have chosen works wonderfully on every level but the romantic. I have a huge, gratifying life all of a sudden, and startlingly fortuitous things happen to me every day. If men can't take that, it is a small price to pay.