Bisou Baby Baci Basta

by G Goodman

Dreams can really mess with my emotions.  Sometimes I have a dream about kissing someone and then the next day it’s all I can think about.  Usually it’s a dream about a crush or an ex or a friend.  Sometimes it’s totally random and sometimes it’s been provoked in some way.  It comes on full-force out of some kind of subconscious dormancy, and it feels completely real.

The worst is when you don’t just kiss them, you actually fall in love with them and there is relief in kissing them, like it’s all you’ve ever wanted, and then the relief goes straight into needing more–but that’s okay, because this epic longing is for exactly what you have right in front of you.

And then you wake up and it’s not in front of you at all, or next to you, or anywhere in close proximity, physically and probably also spiritually.

At first though, in the morning, it’s fun just to have something like that to think about when it hasn’t been on my actual horizon in awhile.  It’s just cute in the beginning: Awww, I can just float around all day pretending that I’m in love!  Then as the day goes by, it gets tiring–I realize, jeez, this won’t go away, I can’t shake this stupid faux-memory of something that didn’t even happen, something I didn’t even actually share with someone.  I made-out with my mind’s projection of someone who does not actually love me (as far as I know).   And then, by the evening, my heart literally hurts from palpitations, little bumps of adrenaline from the memory when it hits me again, followed by that damn sinking feeling when reality sets in again.

Anyway, guess whose stupid heart hurts.

Ironically, the only thing that you can do to fall out of this love is to fall asleep again–and hope that there’s not an encore.

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