Last night was one of the worst nights of sleep I've had in a few weeks. Since I started taking Zoloft my sleep has been deep and long, which was nice, because I was becoming cranky with the insomnia.
However, in the meantime, between laying awake feeling sorry for myself, I had some interesting dreams...including one that made me very happy and very sad...
I have to preface this by referring again to the very close relationships I had in and after high school. Sadly, most of them are no more, but one lost guy wrankles with me constantly.
Jamie (not his real name) became a member of my youth group my junior or senior year, I can't remember which. He was a basketball star, but sweet and shy. We became friends through a series of small gestures: He was sitting alone after church, I went and made small talk. I was walking by him and a group of his friends at school, he waved and said,"Hey." Our mothers were friends and I learned about his life, he invited me to FCA, etc, etc. Eventually we went to the same small college, I supported him when his girlfriend dumped him somewhat viciously. He would play his guitar, and we would sing, or talk about music. When I moved to California, and then back, he was spending a lot of time at my apartment and by that point, we were incredibly close. We'd been through so much together and understood each other. (I thought)
Something happened. It was small, but his allegations that I was basically a clueless meddler were some of the last words he spoke to me. He started using drugs, distanced himself from me. Now we're both married with kids, living states apart, and I'm still pissed. Jamie was someone I trusted implicitly. Someone I thought I would call when I got engaged, someone who would smile at my wedding, who would send a card when my daughter was born. Instead I get updates from my mom and my little brother (best friends with his little brother) and occasionally from my old roommate. Anyway. One of the many dreams I had involved two of the guys in my little circle when I lived in the ghetto apartment. They were hanging out with me, we were our age but still single, still around that ghetto apartment. I asked one of the guys if he had heard from Jamie recently; he said no, and about that time Jamie showed up. He was sweet but distant, not really talking much to me. Some time later he went outside and I followed (okay, maybe the meddling allegations had some truth to them) and he turned around and grinned at me, and said, "I want to talk to you," and we went and sat on a bench together, him holding my hand. And then he sang a song about, basically, not realizing how important your friends are until they're gone. And then I cried a little bit and we both apologized and it rocked. Even in my dream I knew I had so much to tell him.
Then I woke up and for a while I thought it was a memory, and I was so relieved. When I realized I'd dreamed the whole thing, I wanted to cry. I'm at a point now where I'm dying to rekindle some of my old friendships, but this is one that probably won't ever come around...
Sorry for blathering on and on. France will know who I'm talking about because she's heard me whine about this several times but for everyone else--sorry for being such an angsty twentysomething today.