My Ex Is In My Dreams Every Night
So, picture this: your alarm clock blares, you peel open your eyes, and the first thought that pops into your head isn't about that important work meeting or what’s for breakfast, but about... your ex. Yep, that’s right. For what feels like an eternity, they’ve been the star of my nightly cinematic adventures. It’s like they have a VIP pass to my subconscious, showing up every single night, no matter what I do.
At first, it was a little… unsettling. I’d wake up with a weird mix of emotions. Sometimes it was a pang of nostalgia, other times a flash of annoyance, and occasionally, a baffling urge to know if they ever figured out how to fold a fitted sheet properly. Seriously, after all these years, that’s still a mystery.
The dreams themselves are a whole other ballgame. They’re not always dramatic or filled with tearful goodbyes. Oh no, my dreams are far more… eclectic. One night, we might be back in our old favorite coffee shop, the one with the lumpy couches and the questionable Wi-Fi, pretending like nothing ever happened. We're just there, sipping lukewarm lattes, and I’m internally screaming, “Dude, remember that argument we had about the proper way to load a dishwasher?!”
Then there are the truly bizarre ones. Last week, I dreamt we were contestants on a game show called “Relationship Roulette.” The prize? A year’s supply of mismatched socks. I’m not kidding. And in this dream, my ex was brilliant at the sock-matching round. I woke up feeling simultaneously impressed and deeply concerned about my sleep-addled brain’s priorities.
There was also the dream where we were both trying to teach a herd of llamas how to tap dance. Apparently, in my dream world, llamas have a secret passion for the cha-cha. My ex was surprisingly patient with them, which, I have to admit, was a little heartwarming, even if the entire scenario was utterly ridiculous.
It’s funny, isn’t it? The people who once occupied so much of our waking lives can still find their way into our sleeping ones, long after the “real life” chapters have closed. It’s like a persistent echo in the halls of my mind. And while sometimes it’s a bit much, I’ve started to see it in a different light.
Instead of viewing it as a sign that I’m not over them, or that my brain is stuck in a loop, I’m starting to think of it as… dream tourism. My subconscious is essentially running a retro travel agency, offering exclusive, albeit sometimes slightly embarrassing, tours back to memories I thought were long-since archived. And who better to be the tour guide than someone who was there for all the original sightseeing?
It’s also a strange kind of comedic relief. Waking up after a dream where my ex tried to convince me that pigeons are actually tiny, feathered spies feels oddly exhilarating. It’s a reminder that life, and especially our dreams, can be wonderfully absurd. It's a story my brain is still trying to process, and my ex is just a character in its ongoing narrative. Maybe they’re still working out their own plot points in their dreams, and perhaps I’m making a cameo in their llama-dancing escapades too. Who knows?
It’s not always easy. Sometimes, the dreams are a little sad, or they bring up feelings I thought I’d tucked away. But then I’ll have a dream where we’re both attempting to bake a cake using only glitter and enthusiasm, and I can’t help but chuckle. It’s a reminder that even the people who have moved on can leave a lasting impression, a humorous, sometimes puzzling, but ultimately harmless imprint on our nightly adventures.
So, to my persistent, dream-invading ex, I say this: thanks for the memories, the laughs, and the occasional existential dread. Keep the dream-tickets coming. Just try not to bring any more llamas, okay? My sleep schedule can only handle so much tap-dancing wildlife.
And to anyone else whose ex is living rent-free in their dream apartment, I say: embrace the weirdness. It's a sign that your brain is still incredibly creative. Maybe try to make them do something hilariously out of character in your next dream. Have them try to explain quantum physics to a squirrel, or teach a cat to juggle. The possibilities, much like the dreams themselves, are endless. And who knows, you might just wake up with a smile on your face.
It’s just a dream, after all. A slightly bizarre, sometimes nostalgic, and often very funny dream.