Last night, I dreamnt of Mr. Big. I dreamnt of him holding me in his arms, and that's about all I can remember. I remember his face. I rememeber wearing purple. I remember my hair was in a bun, and I wore my nerdy glasses because allergy season is here, and mother nature won't let me get off that easy.
Anyways, back to the dream. I often like to think of myself as the person that likes to look between the lines, looking for what is not said, but what is done. Like not only looking what was said, but looking what was said, how it was said, and the body language of the person saying it.
I often think of love to be like a mystery, or a puzzle. It takes many pieces to create that overall image of happiness, that happily ever after that we so desperatly want. There is more than someone just saying that they have feelings for you. Anyone can say that. Anyone can say 'hey, i like you,' without meaning anything other than I want to have sex with you, and I will do anything to do so.
But sometimes, we read too much into things. Is it best to not, and just let the good things happen to us?
Is it best to not analyze dreams and horoscopes to their full extent, although correct at times, can be things that comfuse us the most, because we are waiting for the thing that they said would happen, happen.
I guess sometimes, it's better to love blindly. So, I stand here, (well I'm actually sitting, but who the hell cares about that?) trying not to read too much into things. I guess it's better to live my fate, rather than try to predict it.
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