The Unnamed Girl File
I had this weird dream a few weeks back, and I got up and jotted down some notes about it the next morning, April 20, 2006. Here’s what I wrote down:
What happens when you meet someone you were long ago in love with, and you never thought you wouldn't be in love with? What if they are now ugly? Or what if you could never see it all along because through your love you thought they were beautiful? Does this mean that you no longer love them? Has it just faded away into oblivion? The embarrassment of love.
Yes, I was still half asleep when I wrote this. Well, a little more than half.
This dream I had was of a girl, who will remain unnamed, I used to be head over heels in love, or something like it, with. In this dream she was ugly, though she was never an ugly girl in real life. I haven’t seen her in a few years, so I don’t know what she looks like now. But, I was dreaming about her for some reason. I don’t particularly know what the dream was about anymore, although that isn’t important. What I do remember is the thing behind the dream, which I jotted down as notes. (I just thought of a quote from Memento: “And the present is trivia, which I jot down as fucking notes.”)
Back to my dream. This got me to thinking. What if we are all blinded by love? Can it be that a person is ugly, yet we can’t see because we have certain feelings toward them? And what happens when you notice that the person is ugly? Does that mean that the veil has been stripped away? That love has been stripped away?
This dream confuses me. Is it telling me that I need to let go of the past? If you know me well enough, you know that I tend to hold on to that part of my life.
My roommate told me recently that the mind, when sleeping, is like a computer being defragmented. All of these files/memories are being reorganized into a better file system. I guess my hard drive just happened to open the “unnamed girl” file that night and take a peek, and then it just mixed in a few other files that didn’t belong. Computers are always messing up.
I have no idea what “The embarrassment of love” means at the end of my notes. Like I said, I was half asleep.