Saturday, June 01, 2013

Weird Dreams Are Made of These

It's been more than a week since I've heard from my best friend. He's pissed at me, I'm pissed at him. Usually when we reach a standoff like this, I continue to keep the lines of communication open because, as the Lads sing, "Pride can hurt you, too." But I don't feel like it this time.

It feels different this time. I'm growing weary of the 8th grade-level snitty aspect of our relationship. There are many, many wonderful things about this man, but he is awfully sensitive about his own feelings at times while being awfully careless about the feelings of others.

In my dream Friday night, he morphed into Frasier Crane. The friction between us sprang from the play A Chorus Line. I don't remember the details in the dream, but the quality of our discourse disintegrated pretty quickly and included a lot of "how could you do this to me NOW" vs. "how could you do this to ME now?" It seems in the dream we were both unemployed. In real life, he has been since late last summer, and I fear I soon will be.


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