You know, this whole Jack Is Out of My Life thing would be way easier if I didn’t dream about him so freaking much.
It doesn’t take a lot for him to pop up in some nocturnal brain movie. I think Friday night’s appearance was because my mother on Friday, sitting in my living room for a visit, asked me if he’d seen the house yet. This is the second time she’s asked that question. I thought I’d quashed her curiosity the first time, but no. So I repeated that Jack and I haven’t talked in a long time.
“End of friendship?” she asked.
“Yes.” One word, terse, with my eyes directed at the slippers I was putting my feet into. Mom really knows nothing about my actual relationship with Jack. She knows we used to see each other a lot. That’s all. And I don’t care to tell her more. I don’t care to tell very many people more.
Except everyone in the blogosphere, of course.
It was either that sixteen-word exchange or a mutual friend’s photo of Jack posted on Facebook, but sure enough, he floated handsomely across the silver screen of my sleeping psyche that night. Not for the first time, and not for the last. I dwell on him far less now. I have cut all ties. I have defriended him on the social network, nixed his email addresses from my contact list, deleted him from my cell phone. Of course, I know his phone number and his email addresses, and there are still the places and scents that remind me of him (stupid washing machine repair guy’s Ralph Lauren Blue cologne), but for all intents and purposes, the plug has been pulled.
Still, he lives.
As I mentioned in a previous post, another man from the past has stepped forward a bit recently. Rick is the former chief of staff for the state senator I worked with on a victims’ rights bill last year. Now he works in governmental affairs for a university – the same university where I may or may not be up for a job (call me already – you said you would! I get enough of this from men… I need it from potential employers, too?). And recently, he’s been… well, I think he’s flirting a little. Just a little. Not too much. But there have been near-daily Facebook private messages about his new job and my potential interview, and his efforts to get his old boss’s new staff up and running on a couple more ideas I have that I’d like to get legislated. He even called me Thursday for a chat about it. Which he definitely did not have to do.
Pretty sure Rick wants to be my hero. In a Sorkinesque way that I totally dig.
The other thing I previously mentioned is that Rick and his possibly un-girlfriend have decided to spend some time apart. I don’t know if, at this point, they’re officially broken up or not. He has mentioned that the new job is keeping his mind occupied and therefore distracting him from that area of his life. And I totally get that.
Hmmm… so you say you need a distraction, eh?
I know, I know. I have a terrible tendency to go in for emotionally unavailable men. Even Ali Velshi should know that. Yet he doesn’t seem to be warning me away. Probably because he knows I need a distraction, too. Or because his billing peeps are charging I mean ridiculous rates because they’re delusional.
“Distraction” may now be associated with a cunningly raised eyebrow.
I haven’t had any dreams about Rick. You know how they say that when you start dreaming in another language, you know you’re truly learning and internalizing it? I guess I haven’t internalized Rick. Probably just as well. But it would be pretty awesome if Rick showed up in a dream and fought Jack for my affections.
Wait – Jack isn’t looking for my affections. Even in my dreams.
Wait – that would make it even more awesome. Jack suddenly realizes how stupid he’s been, vies for my love, but no! Rick enters, trusty steed’s nostrils flaring, steam surrounding them for no reason at all except this is a dream. Rick dismounts, approaches Jack. Jack backs away, looking at me, wondering if I might possibly have found new love so soon. His heart breaks. I know it, because this is a dream, and you know stuff like that in dreams. Rick advances, a gentleman, but firm. “She now gives her love to me,” he says.
Oh, hang on, I just threw up in my mouth. I just remembered that I’ve had “movie moments” in real life, and they’ve all sucked. And nobody ever has a steed. I mean not even once.
Great. Now I’ll dream I’m in love with a horse.