"I'm just going for a drink"

Normally I dislike dreams like this.  I dislike dreams which remind me over something in the past and make me feel wistful.  This one made me feel wistful, but not in a bad way.


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It was a summery day during my holiday, and I was at this country house hotel type building, to meet two of my school friends with whom I still keep in good contact, S and F.  We were in evening dress, and we were having wine and champagne as we caught up and found out what we were each up to.  (In reality, this makes sense.  S works for a branch of the government as a civil servant, and F is graduating this year and will be a serveuse at Disneyland and teaching languages)  We were in a restaurant in the country hotel, just standing near a table, and it seemed to be late afternoon or evening.  We then found out there was a class reunion, of everyone who was in my Lower Sixth/Upper Sixth class back at school, in the adjacent restaurant, so we went to join them.  It was then that I became aware that I was wearing a red dress and I was holding a glass of dark red wine.  I was talking with my old school friends for five minutes, then for some reason, I decided to leave, with the excuse "I'm just going for a drink with someone somewhere else, I'll be back in five minutes" despite the fact I still had a full glass of wine in my hand and I had only been at my reunion for five minutes.

I went to another restaurant (a hotel full of restaurants....) and saw one of my friends there - prior to seeing him, I didn't know he was there at a table, I just had an overwhelming feeling that I needed to leave my reunion and make up an excuse to leave.  So I sat with him at the table (let's call him A); he was wearing a charcoal grey suit and was drinking wine.  We ordered dinner and drinks, and we were talking about whether or not to get another type of red wine (different to the ones we had each separately been drinking) or a drink called 'Disso' which I suppose was like Prosecco.  So then I suggested we get both - I wasn't in the mood for more red wine, but I was willing to get both of them, but then he decided we'd just get this Prosecco like drink.

Whilst we were waiting for our food and drinks, I rested my head on his shoulder and asked him what he'd been up to since I had seen him last (in reality, we exchange pleasantries during major holiday festivals and birthdays) and we made small talk then for some reason, I decided I would say "I love you", having no romantic feelings for this person, but then he didn't return the love so I left, but not before he kissed my hair.


(This is turning into such a cheesy story.  Well, it's helpful for me to process it)


I went back to my reunion, and I had been away from them for ages, even though I had just gone to have a drink with someone, but my friends overlooked this and we chatted for the remainder of the evening.  Later on, I decided to leave to go to my room as I was feeling down but there was a gang of chavs outside near the main entrance, so I went back inside to find someone to walk with me.  Instead, some of my girl friends wanted to get a taxi, so I was wandering around the restaurants looking for the minicab booth.  During my search, I went to the restaurant where I had met A, and we made eye contact, but he was with a girl, who I thought was his girlfriend, and his brother.  I left quickly after that.


Over the next few days, I think A tried to tell me that he loved me, but I was either not aware or it or didn't want to know.  He then started to write a letter, the size of a broadsheet newspaper page to explain his feelings to me, and he was going to get it published the next day in The Financial Times.  I'm not sure how I was seeing this scene; I must have been invisible or something.  But Blair Waldorf, from Gossip Girl, came along and told him to stop trying to tell me how he felt because I didn't care, and that whatever he did wasn't going to work.  A then told her he was going to get the front page of the FT with this letter, but she told him to stop trying to publish it, his efforts were useless.

I'd like to tell you how it ended... but then I woke up.  But I don't think I want to know.


Carol xoxo




all images found via www.images.google.co.uk, except the one of me (that's my own)