He sits next to me, telling me a joke. He looks at me then looks away and throws his hands in the air as he begins to speak animatedly. I’m already laughing at what he’s saying, not because the joke is funny or anything, but because of the way he’s telling it. Sometimes the way someone tells a joke is funnier than the joke itself. This is one of those times. He brushes his hand over mine, and stops talking as he tells me the punchline. I laugh even harder, because the joke wasn’t funny at all. It was a failed attempt at a joke, but it was not a failed attempt at making me laugh. He succeeded in doing that.
He brushes my arm again and looks down at me smiling. He leans down and I wrap my arms around his neck and
I’ve dreamt about him. Again. How am I supposed to forget about someone who’s forgotten about me, if my subconscious just won’t let it go?
They say that when you dream about someone it means you were the last person they thought about before they fell asleep. I want to enjoy this idea but I can’t, because, a) I don’t believe in old wives tales and b) I’ve watch He’s Just Not That Into You enough times to know that no text messages and no phone calls means his forgotten.
I’m trying, to forget. But my subconscious just won’t let go of that check shirt and shy smile.