Only a Dream

Heart Rants…

Twenty years ago I was dancing in my bedroom with a sultry guy that was never, ever, any good for me. Every teenaged girl’s dream? Every mother’s nightmare. She feared the worst, but all we were doing was dancing. Well, mostly. Not much changed, for a long time. But now… now? Well, now I am dancing beside my bed and I can dance with who ever I want to dance with, because I am just calling up day dreams and fantasies. And these guys are nicer. Because they are “only a dream” like Solomon Burke croons.

Love was wasted when I did not know what I held, or what I was doing. It wasn’t really love though, was it? And it wasn’t my fault back then. I was a naive and confused kid chasing after something she didn’t understand. But I remember how full my heart felt when we used to dance in my bedroom to songs I couldn’t yet relate to. Is that where it started, that attraction to the wrong thing? I can still remember the sound your old leather coat made when we would walk back up the tracks. That old brown leather was like heat to me. My finger tips loved that feeling, enticing and soft. I know, I know. Gawd that’s cheesy. But… teenaged girls are all kinds of silly… when they aren’t flirting with disaster. Intense-eyed enticing sexy disaster.

Why is it always leather jackets? If I am ever approached by another man in a beat up leather jacket, I swear I will run like hell is on my heels. It probably is. And since I am on that note, if he is inclined to consider himself a musician, I should also make sure I know where my running shoes are. But dammit I like those things about a man. Is there really no such thing as a deeply affected artist type with a Nice personality? I keep watching these movies that are more like fairy tales than anything I read as a child. Some dark and dusky man-boy who is actually a completely loveable and trust worthy person. HA! I want to believe in that, which is why I keep watching them. I want to feel, and so I will feel it vicariously. I want my heart to fill until it pops out of my chest and splatters.

And as Solomon Burke still says “Soul Searching, I got to be crazy baby…” (Well, he says plenty more than that, but I’m not sure how much more my heart can take today.) Truth is, I am over all of that. I don’t want to chase or run away from anything. But now I am woken, I don’t want to go back to sleep. And I am not over the idea that the right one is out there slowly heading in my direction. I’m just feeling moody and affected. I bet there’s a movie about that 😉

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