Sleep, stupidity and other manipulatible variables

I had another one of those dreams again. The shitty ones. It's amazing how painful and vivid they can be when they're not even real.

I don't remember most of it, I just remember being at this dorm or hostel or garage sale - SOMEWHERE - and being upset because [No-Mr-Darcy] hadn't spoken to me in three months or something (actually, it has been three months. Nice job at doing math, subconscious). I was complaining to [X] I believe and then [No-Mr-Darcy] turned up  and had some valid excuse for not talking to me or something. Then he asked me out for coffee and I felt bad for ever doubting him.

Which is totally fictional. He's never even tried to contact me. So why do I keep having this stupid-ass dreams?

It's the sort that of dream that sticks with you throughout the day, that pops up at random times then suddenly disappears, only to come back at the end of the day when you're all relaxed and you can't remember why you were stressed out earlier. The sort you don't know if you want to talk about because it's so vague and airy but you feel tempted to do so anyway, just to get it off your chest.

I know I said I was going to stop talking about [No-Mr-Darcy] about a million times already. I mean, how do I have the right to be so beat up over someone I hardly know? And yet my subconscious won't give me a break. Every other week it's like this now. And I think I know why.

I keep debating whether I should ask [X] if she's talked to [No-Mr-Darcy] at all. If he's mentioned me, shown the slightest inkling in wondering if I still exist. But I'm afraid of what the answer might be. If he hasn't asked about me, it shows he doesn't care in the slightest. If he does ask about me, he probably thinks it's my fault that things didn't work out. And there's no easy way to bring this up in conversation with [X] (which is limited anyway) without sounding desperate or conniving or just plain weird. Or thinking that I still care for him.

Do I still care for him? I can't say yes, I can't say know. It's limbo all over again. Thus I haven't mentioned any of this to [X] at all. But now I think it's beginning to wear at me. I have to know, even if it tears me apart.
 
Really, what difference would it make if I knew? None. It's not like I really feel up to trying to work things out or anything. It's not like he probably does either. I guess I just want this little uncertainty erased, to see if I can regain any of my pride. To see if I'm owed any sympathy. I don't really know what I want. But it certainly wants something from me. Else my subconscious wouldn't be fixating on it so.

And yet, at the same time, I feel like I'm waiting for something - either the opportune time, for me to just get over it, or for something else to happen. Ah, time - how you baffle me. I've gotten no sense of the opportune time, and I certainly don't seem to be getting over it. Maybe it's time I take matters into my own hands. I can't force myself to forget. I can't force myself to let go. Maybe I should ask [X], maybe I should grow a pair and ask [No-Mr-Darcy] what the fuck happened.

But no decisions now. I always get melodramatic when it gets later at night. I'll sleep on it, and see how I feel tomorrow. If more of the same... well, maybe it's time to try something different. Maybe something I haven't even thought of yet. We'll see... time will tell. I hope.