So I woke up from a very strange dream this morning. I'd gone and fallen in love with Methos (the ROG, not my cat), and he with me. And we'd had some cuddling and pillow-talk about stuff and that I liked cuddling and kissing but I wasn't so keen on the actual sex act, and he was groovy with that. The relationship grew and there may have been a commitment, and I thought maybe sex with Methos might be worth a try, with the whole really loving and trusting thing. I was all set to tell him
... and I died in a car wreck before we could consummate.
But, wait! There's more! He comes home to my parents' house all mournful and stuff, and I'm there as a ghost, but he doesn't see me. Duncan MacLeod, on the other hand, does. As does Joe Dawson. Well, that made sense, since Joe was also dead and coaching me on the stuff I could and couldn't do as a ghost. Duncan refused to pass on my messages to Methos (I'm just now realizing a similarity to the movie Ghost, only it's wasn't, because everything was different but the basic scenario, and Duncan wasn't a medium, nor as funny as Whoopi) so I gave up on him and tried writing Methos a letter, but I could only get the first word out -- but the stationery was pretty, and the pen had red ink. I really, really wanted to tell him how much he meant to me, and something about "Fifteen years," which, in the dream, my shade fell asleep muttering (because I hadn't gone into detail about something that I wanted him to know).
And then, still a ghost, I was eating rice at the breakfast bar at my parents' house, only there was too much soy sauce, and some people could see me and some could not, and I was still mooning over Methos and making a mess with the rice so the person at the sink could tell I existed. I wanted something else in my bowl, but, again, the people who could see me wouldn't pass my messages.
