Hmm

Titling a blog entry is not as easy as it seems. Especially when you're not sure what you want to talk about. I had a couple of things I wanted to discuss, but now that I'm here I'm just . . . distracted. Listening to Fiona Apple and musing over how good her first album still is. Wondering when my partner-in-crime will get home and how grumpy he will be due to losing his subway pass at some point today (that he just bought three days ago!). Thinking about all the things I'm trying to get done before my vacation, which starts in less than two weeks.
Today passed in an uncomfortable haze. I have a huge amount of work I'd like to accomplish before my vacation, so the people left behind aren't slammed while I'm away. And this work just doesn't seem to be happening quite fast enough. I'm sure it'll happen, but still . . . My work crush was grumpy today. He's trying unsuccessfully to quit smoking. Granted, he's cute when he's cranky, but he also tends to be less social. Lately my apartment has seemed cramped and, well, not how I want it. But I'm severely limited in what I can do with my space because it's not only my space, although I have many ideas on what I'd like to do . . . I want to get my novel submitted to at least one publishing house before I go on vacation, as well. This means some work in the evenings. It also means that I wish the TWENTY-EIGHT people or so who have looked at my myspace blog containing my synopsis would actually comment on the thing!
But the crux of my haziness today, I think, is the dream I had last night. It was about a boy. My what-if boy. In my dream, we were at some sort of vacation house on a river. It was nighttime, and we were sitting in the boat docked by the house. A little boat, some sort of speedy open-topped thing. And we were talking, and every so often he would move to hold me or kiss my neck, and then he would stop. "I can't, I just can't." The air was imbued with his tension, his distress. It happened several times and then he left. He ran. Because he couldn't deal with the emotions that being near me brought up. Because he was with someone else. Then there's a fuzzy dream section, something about the house being full of water and other people being there and I was hurt because he was gone. So I went looking for him. Took my boat up the river, which quickly turned into this marsh area, huge trees growing out of the water, other boats tied up to the trees and to long docks. I went to this huge building where there was some sort of interactive art display and I knew, I just knew that if I could get through it fast enough and well enough that I would find my what-if boy and things would be right. So I tried, but these two hippies (for lack of a better term) stopped me and said, "He's with her. You have to let him be right now." They took me back to their camp where there was a fire, or maybe just a multitude of candles, as their camp was a sort of shack built of wood scraps and tent material, and consoled me, kept me company for a while.
I know it's just a dream, but I woke up distraught. And his distress, his frustration in the boat has stayed with me all day. Hence the haze, hence the distractedness. It's amazing how hard it is to let go of people sometimes, isn't it? I don't really know what else to say. I wonder, and wonder, and he haunts my dreams.