A little hope is effective; a lot of hope is dangerous.

[brandywine28]

Yesterday I told Lara that it feels like my shriveled, desiccated heart might actually be starting to believe again, and you know what? I think it's true. It's not exactly a "rainbows exploding out of my eyes" sort of mindset, but. It's something. It feels...odd. A little itchy in places. But kinda great, too.

So it seems my will-they-or-won't-they reunion-based anxiety is manifesting itself in all sorts of fun and quirky ways. Last night I dreamed that Lance was a serial murderer who the papers had dubbed "The Leprechaun Killer", because he was in the habit of leaving a bejeweled shamrock (?????) at the scene of every crime. I was the grizzled, Eastwood-esque veteran cop charged with hunting him down. I was a loose cannon with a chip on my shoulder and nothing to lose! (Because, y'know, obviously.) Just before I woke up he and I were sharing a banana split at one of those old-timey faux-1950s malt shoppes and he was telling me how much he was looking forward to prison.

Frankly, I'm a little impressed that my unconscious mind invented something so coherent. That's the real news here, I think.

Comments

[brandywine28.livejournal.com]

GOOD. I can rest easy, knowing there's still some hope for you. A smidge, anyways.