The Man of My Dreams

I've had nothing to blog all week. I've been busy, but nothing too noteworthy. So, in the spirit of Flashback Friday, I'm going to share with you the best story I have from my life thus far. Are you ready for this?

Uh... this is going to have to wait. It's late Friday afternoon and everyone in the office is gone but me. (We sometimes do this on slow Fridays) I was going to just take a few minutes and blog before heading out for the weekend, but I think I have to leave. I work in a turn-of-the-century home we converted into office space. There are weird stories about this place being haunted and I just heard a door close upstairs. I'm so not hanging out here by myself. I'll post my story later. I'm a scaredy-cat.

OK, I'm now safe and can finish my story.

While I was growing up I would always dream about this guy. It wasn't someone I knew, but he had a reoccurring role in my dreams. He would usually rescue me from some perilous situation. He was this handsome dark haired guy with a great smile.

After I graduated from college, I took a trip across Europe with a friend. We were on a night train to Prague (doesn't that sound romantic) and it was pretty crowded. The cars have six bunks, three going up each side of a little room. We finally found a car with two available bunks. I threw my backpack on my bunk, turned around, and in the bunk directly across from me was... the guy from my dreams!! I couldn't believe it.

We chatted through the evening. When it was time to go to sleep, he mentioned that he had talked to someone in charge and found out they had reserved a car in case any VIPs came. He was promised the room if nobody showed up needing it. He offered the private room to me and my friend (perfect dream man, huh?). So Daphne and I had a nice night's sleep in a car without a bunch of strangers. In the morning we were in Prague. We all went together to find the best money exchange rate, and then were separating to go to our separate hotels. This was one of my first travel experiences so I hadn't learned that part of the fun is meeting people and traveling with them for a few days. I stood there awkwardly waiting for him to invite us to meet him for lunch or something, but after a couple of moments of silence, I just told him goodbye.

He said goodbye and walked away. My friend smacked my arm and said it was obvious he was waiting for me to invite him to meet us later. I told her I had been waiting for him to say something. She offered to run after him, but I felt too embarrassed. (are we getting why I'm still single??) I had that whole serendipity mentality- I knew it was meant to be and we'd just happen to run into each other at the town square later in the afternoon.

Sorry to say, I never saw him again. It haunts me. The literal man of my dreams and I was too chicken to do anything. All I know is his name is Joseph and he's from Boston. If any of you know him, please give him my number.

One friend concluded that because I haven't dreamed about him since means that he probably filled his role in my life. Maybe there was some crazy freak in that crowded train car and the man of my dreams saved me just like he did many nights of my youth. This sounds like a good resolution to the story for me. I'm going to go with that.