So the strangest thing had happened Saturday night.
I woke up to my computer being shut off, along with my Playstation being shut off as well and not in rest mode as I had left it. When I turned the Playstation back on, it complained about being improperly shut down so I went through the prompts to have it check and repair itself. The fact that I woke up to a shut-off computer isn’t all that strange, as I think my body wakes up when it no longer hears the music I had been playing. I turned it back on and resumed playing my iTunes playlist for the remainder of the night. I also noticed I had a response to the last text message I sent, which made me think the delay wasn’t because he passed out for the night.
I fell back to sleep, which is what I wanted to happen but hadn’t realized it happened. See, I was standing near the guy from work, when he gave me a printed out black-and-white picture. It looked like it was printed on regular printer paper, with the edges slightly curling upwards as if the paper had been saturated with too much printer ink. However, the image itself appeared to move, at first appearing to be like a lenticular image that you would turn from side to side to see the motion, though the little bit of motion came without turning the image at all. Eventually, the image played like watching a video online, a similarity to the Harry Potter series that’s not lost on me; the image was a montage of things he must’ve been proud about, or things he wanted to show me because it might have been of interest to me.
By the time the image had actually played like a video, we were somehow divided from a group of people we had joined, the group of people all going to some kind of restaurant. I sat in a section of the restaurant where I could sit by myself and yet still talk to other diners nearby. Towards the end of my time there, some young girl came up to me and handed me a small box, about the size of a man’s billfold wallet. It was a simple cardboard box, and inside was a bracelet that had a silver panel on it with a single word: “Hope.”
Elated, I sprang from my seat and ran around the restaurant, eventually running outside where I finally found him standing nearby a few other people. He was happy, which always looks good on him, and he asked me when he could move in. I was taken aback, slightly confused, but still quite happy in the moment. He said something about trying to be quiet about it, but I was so giddy that I jumped into the air, bending my knees on the way up.
When I woke up for the day, I was in such a good mood! But then I remembered, I was having a dream.
I used to analyze my dreams when I was younger. Some of the dreams I had back then, I can still recall certain details, and I try to figure out if that dream was meant for back then or to prepare me for now.
The hope bracelet stands out to me as something I should focus on. I used to sell some of the bracelets I made, simple beaded designs in pretty colors. Originally I just made bracelets for my own use, but currently I have three bracelets needing to be restrung and I’m wearing two cheap plastic Halloween bracelets I bought from a craft store a few years ago. That being said, if someone gave me a bracelet, I’d probably wear it regularly, which means they put enough thought into who I am and what I might like.
“Much more up your alley,” he said on Saturday, as he shared a song by the band Tiamat. The vocals were haunting and beautiful, a departure from the screaming vocals of some of the other songs he’s been sending my way lately, though a few of those have resonated with me and I’ve come across other similar bands who had a good song or two. It was one thing when he was sending me songs that he liked, or that he said I should listen to; for him to presume that he knew what my alley was and what would be up it… I’m not sure if he was paying attention to something I’m unaware of, or if he was playing Tiamat and just randomly figured I’d like it, but I like it.
Back to the bracelet, and the word of Hope. The bracelet was given to me by a young girl acting as a messenger, in a sense. Somehow, I knew where it came from, I knew it came from him, though I don’t recall him acknowledging that it was he who gave me the bracelet. If the bracelet is just representative of the feeling, then did he give me hope or was it someone else? That being said, should I have hope for things in my waking life? Should I wear this hope, literally and figuratively, not only as a reminder to myself to not give up, but also for others to glance my way and see some kind of positive message?
So what of the image, the moving montage, the brag reel of parts of his life? I would say that’s reality bleeding into my dreams, although the images were different. In our conversation earlier in the evening, he shared with me a picture from a couple years ago, from an event he went to during the day that I had attended after sundown. The event was for a video game, and if I had attended during the day, I would have had a chance to play the demo that I was too late to start, and I would have met him about a year sooner. Though I regret not getting to play the game, I was in a bad place at that time, as I was a month out of my relationship with the ex fiancé, and I was unemployed and couch surfing, so I’m thankful that fate hadn’t crossed our paths at that time. However, it’s still funny to know we were both there.
The first thing that echoed in my mind upon waking from the dream, however, was the idea of keeping things quiet, and how I jumped into the air. To me, that said I’m likely going to give something away, that if this became something more, I’d be obvious about it. I’m actually worried that would be true, or that my behavior suggests that I’d be likely to give it away if we got together like that and he’d err on the side of caution instead.
But it was all just a dream, and whether you believe that a dream is the subconscious sending a message to the conscious thought, or if it’s a message from angels or other divine beings, the fact is that the dream is not going to mean that I’ll end up with the guy from work.
Right now, he’s going through Hell in his personal life outside of work, which is rough enough that he can’t just leave it at the door, so it’s spilling into his work life and making things miserable.
I was pleasantly surprised to see him tonight at work, as he was covering for someone else. As I walked past him, I ducked my head down to look at his face, to see if I could gauge the mood he was in. When I talked with him on break, it was obvious that he was miserable, and that didn’t change all day as he was still in a mood as we clocked out for the night.
He lit a cigarette and smoked it as soon as he was out of the building, and there was nothing about the way he took a drag that suggested he was calm and collected. I started to say something to him, and while it wasn’t on the subject, he shut me down and said not to talk to him about his personal life. That was fine, because I wasn’t even trying to work through his stuff this time, after already throwing out suggestions to see what he’d be willing to try to see if it would help. So I said to him, “I don’t care what’s going on, all I care is that you’re happy. Happy looks good on you.” He vented out the short version of what’s wrong at that point, as the lit part of the cigarette neared the filter.
“I want food,” he stated.
“What do you want? We’ll get food.”
So we went to a certain place known for their double arches, where he asked me to order one of their burgers and a chicken sandwich for him, and to get whatever I wanted as well. So I ordered the burger, then added, “no pickles.” Oh no, what is he going to think? Because I remembered that modification from the last time we went to that fast food place. My mind remembers these details, and then I never know if it’s being mindful, thoughtful, helpful, or if it’s creepy and I’m trying too hard. In my self-conscious state, I questioned him if it was okay, and he said yes.
By the time we got back to his place, we had been listening to Vanna and he was spending most of the ride talking about their music instead of anything else, which was fine. We sat in front of his house, watching a video on YouTube of a concert performance by Vanna, one of their last as the band had announced they were breaking up. By the time we had even arrived at his house, he wasn’t the same miserable person I spent eight of my ten hours working alongside, he was closer to being that cool person who was fun to be around.
I mean, I hate myself. If my goal was to attract him romantically, on the grounds that the dream suggested we should be romantically paired, then I failed for every time I went looking for him to be by his side, to talk to him over the course of the day. I pushed to make sure that he had a ride home tonight, to the point where I was willing to stay late if he had to cover any call that ran past closing time, just because I didn’t really want him walking home in the rain. I was literally a pest!
If only for the rest of the night, he broke out of his misery. And I feel like I might have been what cracked him, but I can’t say for sure, and I can’t give myself too much credit.
Maybe I’m not the only one who was given hope, or maybe I am the one who reminds others that there is hope for them.
(The title comes from a song called Whether Terrified Or Unafraid by the band 68, yet another band this guy has introduced me to that has a few good songs)