Am I am an obsessed freak-a-zoid.

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

So about, sheesh, 4 years ago I went to a summer art’s program that the state of Vermont runs. It was an amazing experiance that changed my life and helped me find many good friends.

One of the students there, we will call him “John” to protect the innocent, ran an improv comedy group that I was in. It was the first time I ever tryed improv, and loved it.

I also had a huge crush on “John.” He was everything I wanted, kind, but not sacrine, funny, but not “the spot light MUST be on me,” smart as all hell. Nothing ever happened, though, because I was 16 and shy. I ran into him about a year later, and he told me he was working as a nanny that summer. I think we know what happened to SwimmingRiddles then. (puddle of estrogen ensues)

I haven’t seen “John” in three years, he’s going to a fantastic art’s school. I am now involved in a semi-pro improv group, which makes me think of him, the first person to introduce me to improv. I’ve also been kicking around the idea of having a reunion from that art’s program.

Last night I dreamt I ran into “John” again. Now understand that my dreams, as stupid and crazy as this sounds, tend to mean something. The night before my sister invited me to a dinner party some friends of her were having, I dreamed I went to a dinner party at their house. I’ll have a dream about a friend and find out something terrible has happened in their lives. So when I dream about someone, it generally makes me pay attention.

I guess the question is ultimately: am I the only freak out there who can’t seem to forget someone? It’s not like we had a fling, at most it was a flirtatious relationship, and even that’s a stretch. I think part of it is that I have equated “John” with my ideal man, whether or not he deserves that. So, Dopers. Anyone else out there an obsessed nut-case?

A little persistance goes a long way. Announcing:

“I go on guilt trips a couple of time a year. Mom books them for me.” A custom made Wally .sig!

2

Well…you’ll always have Paris.

3

Lifts Hand

I to am the same way Swimmingriddles. Her name was Irina. I started College at JSU (Jacksonville State University) Not knowing a soul. I chose it for a very good Forensics and Behavorial science depatments. Not being a social animal in my younger days (or now if I want to be honest.) While wandering thru the student hall I heard of a russian student living on campus. I looked up her number at the international house and asked if she and I could get together so I could practice my russian. (was not offered at this university) Her responce was " I am taking 20hours this semester and working an internship at the newspaper." I saw this as a let down coming. She finished by saying " I am free wednesday at 8pm." We bacame instant friends. over the next three years we spent time with each other when our schedules allowed. going to play, movies and such. When she moved off to washington to finish her internship we continued to write.
She came back to JSU for a brief time. When one day she asked for a ride to the airport in Atlanta so she could go home to see her mother.(Was 3 months after the Coup.) I took her and discovered as she was boarding the plane she was not planning on coming back to the states. Quite a shock. Did not even get the courage to kiss her goodbye. I did recover enough to wave goodbye. We have stayed in touch since then trading letters and E-mail. She has been the woman I have compared all other to since then.
One of my prized possesions now is a poem she sent me by a russian poet named Anna Akhmatova.

This black and everlasting seperation
I bear equally with you.
Why are you crying? Rather give me your hand,
Promise to visit my dreams again.
You and I are like to mountians…
You and I will not meet in this world.
If only at the midnight hour
You’d send me a greeting across the stars.

4

This is so weird…I was going to post a similar topic. I recently happened upon the e-mail address for the guy who was “the One” for me for several years. We had one of those tortured on-again off-again relationships, very passionate in a high school sort of way. We I moved away for college, I managed to put him mostly behind me, except when I’d get into a fight with my boyfriend (now husband). I’d call up Mike and cry my little heart out, and wonder why I wasn’t with him. I finally lost track of him right before I decided to marry my husband. Sometimes, though, I still think of him. It’s not that I really want to be with him, more of a “what if” kind of feeling.

Anyway, I decided it was best not to write him. I did,however, leave my e-mail address of the same alumni list. Half of me is hoping he’ll write me…I can’t help but wonder what his life is like right now. And yes, I’m kind of hoping that he’s been thinking about me all of these years, too.

I feel kind of guilty about this, as though I’m betraying my husband with these thoughts. I’ve decided that this is a normal feeling that everyone has, even if it’s not. Helps with the sanity, you know. :slight_smile:

5

Swimming, please consider the fact that your dreams actually don’t mean anything. You have fallen for the common fallacy of remembering the coincidences. You remember the “hits”, yet forget the thousands of “misses” in your dreams.

I know this wasn’t your question, but maybe this information will help you to not obsess about it

6

Yeah, I can’t forget what an ass my ex-husband was.

My kids brighten up our home. They never turn the lights off. -A Wallyism

7

Hmmm. Wanna throw some cold water on your fantasy? Consider this:

Are you sure he’s straight?

If I were to count up the number of times my women friends have unknowingly fallen head-over-heels for a gay man, and not had a clue in the world about it, and were able to rationalize all sorts of things regarding their behavior (oh, no, he was flirting, I heard he had a girlfriend, etc, etc), I would need all of my fingers, all of my toes, and the hands and feet of two other people.

Just a thought…

Movie Geek Central – Reviews, news, analysis, and more! http://moviegeek.homestead.com

8

His name is Tam. He lives in Canada. I missed him, emotionally, by a matter of days.

The biggest regret of my life, and I still think about him every blessed day.

{SIGH}

Esprix

Evidently, I rock.
Ask the Gay Guy!

9

There is a wonderful woman from Canada I met while travelling in Mexico. We only talked for a few hours but almost three years later I still think of her. A lot!