Thursday, October 27, 2005

Last night, I had a disturbing dream. But not disturbing in the traditional sense.

It all started when I walked out of Old Chicago on a warm summer afternoon. Across the parking lot, there was Steph, in business attire. Black suit coat and skirt down to the top of her knee. Deep teal button-down blouse. Black heels. And seven months pregnant with a mischievous grin on her face.

Rewind. Steph and I have known each other since freshman year at NDSU, but grew close when she started dragging me to watch her drummer boyfriend's band play in area bars. We must have went out watch them at least 10 times, starting in Nov. '02, before he was arrested for failing to register as a sex offender less than a year later. Shortly after that, she dumped him. Then I thought that it was my opportunity to move in, but I shouldn't have picked that moment when I was drunk in Old Chicago to make my move. We continued to hang out, but mostly at Co-Ed Intramural Hockey. By the end of that school year, Steph wasn't returning any of my calls.

Due to the way that I was treated, I felt the best thing was to cut all ties with her and move on. I caught myself thinking about her sometimes, but resisted all urges to reconnect. And I didn't see her again until our friends Paul and Nikki got married this June.

So, in the dream, Steph was treating me nice. She wanted to get on my good side again. But she didn't want to be friends again for the sake of patching things up. She didn't want me. She wanted my money or possessions or something. She wanted to use me for her own personal gain. Even tried to convince me the child was mine, when we both knew this to be false. I saw right through her. And I still wanted no part of it.

Normally, that'd be the end of it. But here's the disturbing part. Once I thought about that dream at work today, I couldn't stop thinking about it. About how the dream could be some kind of omen. How I was maybe unfair to Steph. How we should maybe go back to being friends. How I might still have feelings for her. How I want to call her. Imagining possible hypothetic situations where I might run into her, like at McDonald's on my lunch break or tonight's NDSU Men's Hockey Game .

And this just seems like a horrible idea. I have to keep talking myself out of doing exactly that. I don't want to go crawling back to her and seem even more pathetic that I already am.

I really wish I had someone to talk to about this. Travis is in Texas now. Vern's in St. Cloud. Paul and Nikki are mutual friends, but I don't know if I can talk to one of them about this without it getting back to Steph and making things worse. Maxwell would laugh at me. I could ask Lyn, but she's busy with her new daughter.

So, I blog. And fret.

As I wrote this, I was listening to U2's "Sunday Bloody Sunday", a song with which I will always associate with this dilemma from now on.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Call Lyn man, she always has time for a friend.

All page content ©PFritz21.NET 2004-2010