So many tangents, so little time. >_>

I've had a couple dreams recently about people I used to know, and kind of wonder what the message is about. I suppose I would have a better idea if I had more deep sleep, since then I would obviously dream more, and have a more accurate picture by now.

Every so often I remember certain dreams I've had in the past that stood out so monumentally, that I thought I might have known what they were about at the time, but were so strange that I can never stop wondering about them. More often than not I remember one with S. Even at the time I had that dream I never understood why I did. I understand that people can sometimes symbolize other people and things, but why it used him specifically to show me, I have no idea.

It makes me think that I should have made more of an effort to keep in touch with S, that perhaps there is some trait about him that I should be aware of that would make things make more sense. I suppose I will never know what it is. I guess it was another of those missed opportunities I was talking about last night.

It can be a painful thing sometimes, shyness. When you're talking to someone and you converse with them normally, yet almost involuntarily, because the only thing that you can actually hear in your head is yourself screaming out your feelings for them and your frustration with why you can't just come out and say it. It's like there's literally a wall between your brain and your mouth.

My memories of these dreams just reminded me of that.

And then it just brings me back to the current time. I feel like there's always something I'm not saying, or not saying right. I think it's partly due to not wanting to disappoint people, including myself. Of course as a result of that, misunderstandings happen. Despite that, there's still always a silly part of me that goes, well, why don't people get me? Yes, I realize that's ridiculous.

I'm off on this adventure, and I'm loving it, though I can't help feeling like somehow I am a disappointment. Like I should be there for people, like I always was. I always wanted to be something constant. The one you can always rely on. I still do. And I still am, as much as anyone would let me. But now that I want these other things, it feels like it's getting in the way of my ability to just love people and be content with what I have with them.

You know those paradox things that make robots explode? I'm feeling that now. Like, making people happy is what makes me happy. But I also want to do things for myself to add to that happiness. In my current case, leaving makes people less happy. Therefore, by this logic, I would be less happy. But the intent was to be more. Thus the paradox of two things that can't exist at once. If the opposite forces cancel each other out, how can I tell if anything even happened? Would the ensuing adventure still count as progress then? Sure, I'd have travelled physical miles, but would I gain equal, or even comparable distance internally? These are the things my stupid brain keeps me up at night about.

The other day I was telling Jane about my plans, and one of the things she said was, "I don't think I'd be able to be apart from (insert husband's name that I forget). But then again, we've been together for 27 years." It stung a little bit, because up until that point I hadn't thought about that much. But lately I've been feeling guilty about it. Sometimes I get so caught up in the things that I'm worrying about that I forget to put my attention on what's at home. I know that's normal, but it still makes me feel like a bad person. I guess I don't really know how to properly explain myself on this.

Do you ever get that feeling where you have everything you said you wanted, but then still feel like something's not quite right, or that there's still something else? I think that's where I'm at, and where I have been for a few months. It's always been in my head in one way or another over the last few years, but only in a quieter way. I guess a part of my brain is rebelling to the routine I realized I've fallen into. I've always hated conformity. I ended up doing it out of necessity. The feisty part of me has always existed, though with all those aforementioned walls that keep getting built in my brain, it got tired out and then laid dormant. But now something has sparked it alive again. It's breaking itself out slowly, one brick at a time.

Lately it sounds like it's going nuts up there.