born to be loved

I have this recurring dream of a huge, rambling, nook-filled house. It started out being haunted, dusty, old, terrifying, but even in my fear, I began to look around and imagine that the house was my house. And, dream after dream, it became my house, and I was always filled with a sense of wonder at it being mine.

Last night my dream began in my house. My room was all set up and gorgeous, but my sister and my mother (who would apparently be living with me - HUGE house) had either not bothered finishing their sections of the house, or had abandoned the project. I was walking around the house, looking at the mess with curiosity, when a gray and white sheepdog/mutt came running up to me. He had gotten in some way or another, and not long after I started petting him, a very young man came running up to me, looking for the dog.

And he was a very young man, maybe 23 or 24. But he was also fairly attractive and had a sort of nerdy confidence that I liked. We started making moony-eyes at each other. A bunch of his friends showed up (the geeky, awesome, eclectic sort of friends that I had in college), and we decided to go on a drive. Oh, and more cute, friendly dogs appeared.

The guy and I did nothing more but hold hands, but I had the best fluttery-excited feeling inside, the way that I used to feel when I had crushes in college. And I kept waiting for him to ask my age, but we were in such a cute little bubble that I knew it didn't really matter. It was a good dream to wake up from.

And I still don't want to date anyone right now.


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