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2001-10-18 / 1:32 p.m. ~It was the dream~ I awoke at 7:00 this morning, still in my dream, I wanted to remember, wanted to turn on a light, find paper and pen, write it down, but it was too strong to forget. No need to write then, but I'll write what I can remember, now. I found my match. I don't know who he was, but I think we were moving in together. It was new, we'd only just met, so I wasn't sure I could trust it, but it felt right - we were at his house, a big house, high ceilings, in the kitchen, and I think I was getting his things together, mugs from the sink, sorting, throwing things away, packing? We were standing in the kitchen, he was with me then, and I was leaning against the sink, he came up in front of me and I wasn't sure, it seemed too fast, but he assured me it was right, this was it, and he kissed me - it was perfect. Some kisses aren't right, too much, too little, too dry, too wet, you're not in sync, it doesn't feel right, you're going through motions, you're pretending, trying too hard, but this was perfect. Couldn't have been more perfect. A roommate (?) came in, put beer in the fridge, he'd bought Beck's for me, and I haven't drunk Beck's in years, but in the dream he'd gotten it specially for me, and I felt guilty, guilty because he liked me too. Men wanting me. Hah! Imagine that. Not just one, two. The roommate had come up on us kissing, the match and me. He'd come up on the perfect kiss. And he had my beer. How romantic. This is weird though, the match jumped up on me, like threw his legs around my waist and I was supporting him on my hips, like a child maybe, slung not on one hip to hold him, but from the front, on both, and he said I have birthing hips, half joking, but it's something I always say. Here I am, kinda skinny, but I have this sort of hourglass figure, or guitar shape from behind, the shoulders and hips about the same width, the waist small, the hips wide, "birthing hips". Then I awoke. All I felt was the completion, the feeling of finding someone, the feeling of perfection, yet apprehension, not trusting that this could be right, feeling that this doesn't happen for me. I can't even say what he looked like, but I think he had dark hair, and when I try to get a picture I see this guy from the anti-war group, the Coalition in town. But he has a full beard and I don't think the match had one. Also, I won't soon forget that kiss, and wanting to write about it now, before I got here, to work, this morning (10:00 a.m. now), I thought about kissing and how important it is to me, how Nelson never talks about it in our phone sex, I always do, how perfect it was with the French asshole, but he had a loose artificial tooth which always gave him grief, how the one's tongue was too big, another's too rough, the one had too much saliva, left it in my mouth, the one used too much tongue, never just lips, and one had too thin lips, the black men have big lips, white men usually thin and small. How important it is to overall sexual satisfaction, how important overall sexual satisfaction is to a romantic involvement, how every involvement is an entanglement, of sorts, but in this dream, this once, it was perfect, every single aspect, and as he kissed me I stopped myself from saying, "I love you", but I felt it. I couldn't understand how I felt it, but I did. Now, I'm here, and she is avoiding me, hasn't even made eye contact, associates me with reality, with news stories, with negativity, would rather laugh, talk about movies with Eddie Murphy in them, or hairstyles, or shoes. I am no girly girl, I don't do shoes and hair�although�I want to say right here and now that my hair is getting really long and it's growing white in places, long white hairs mixed in, and it looks fabulous. Yep. I think someone needs to run his fingers through it, feel it on his chest and stomach. What?! Sorry. It was the dream, it left me a little, um, well, I don't know. Cost of the War in Iraq
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