Just a Dream

I read an article somewhere (probably io9, because that's where I live on the internet these days) that when you dream about a real person, you react to that person in real life as if your dream were real.

Well, I dreamed about a real person, and now I'm seriously pissed at him. I'm not sure if I'm being irrational, or if my brain figured something out while I slept and I have a good reason to be angry. I'd love to know what you think.

So there's this guy, an acquaintance from church, and sometimes he comes and talks to me, or sits next to me. It was nice, at first, because I occasionally get lonely, and it's pleasant to talk to somebody. And he's genuinely funny. But then he started interrupting my conversations with other men, and monopolizing prime social time. When he acknowledges that I exist, he treats me as if I'm his territory, like he's trying to acquire his own peacock tail, and I'm third feather. He shows no interest in being either my friend or anything more than that, but instead uses me as a social crutch. Uses us, because I'm not the only one he does this to (the other one volunteers, so it's sort of consensual use).

So I dreamed, half-lucidly, and while asleep wrote this speech that I want to say to him next time I see him:

"I need you to take me seriously for about thirty seconds. You're an amusing acquaintance, and I enjoy talking to you, when I get the chance, but we're not friends. You show no interest in becoming friends, or having any kind of contact with me outside of this building. You're wasting my time, and I want you to go away. I don't need people like you in my life. I may be fat, and deeply insecure (it's a grad school thing called "imposter syndrome"), but I'm not so desperate that I'll let you use me. If you want to be friends, then do something that a potential friend would do. Otherwise, go find a skinny blonde who likes football. Go sit next to her and introduce yourself. I would rather be alone, and you're not doing me any favors."

For a few weeks, I used to think that he might actually be interested in me. It wasn't the worst thought I've ever had. I would have enjoyed getting to know him better. But when he showed no signs of interest (never even asked for my number), I could only come to two conclusions: he's got no balls, or he's not really interested in me. I default to the former, but certain facts are undeniable. I am fat, and he's not attracted to fat. So why the f*** does he keep bothering me? The only logical conclusion I can reach at this point is that I serve some small purpose in his (clearly) pathetic social existence. I don't want to. This needs to stop.

Maybe I'm just bitter because I really liked him and now I feel rejected. That would be boringly cliched.

Doesn't change a thing. If I have to, I will make him go away.