My subconscious, the whore March 30, 2007

Last night, I dreamt that I had sex with my ex-boyfriend. 
 
Two nights ago, I dreamt that Slade from The Real Housewives of Orange County pulled me into an empty bedroom at a party and seduced me. (Did I just admit that in public? I just admitted that in public. Just for the record, I have never thought about Slade sexually. In fact, I have never thought about Slade AT ALL.) (Other than to wonder why he stuck with Jo for so damn long.)  
 
I woke up very confused. A tiny bit titillated (what? Shut up) but mostly very confused. There is no good reason I should be having sex dreams about men other than my very gorgeous boyfriend.  
 
I’ve concluded that my subconscious, rebel bitch that she is, is having a few commitment issues. All this talk of “rings” and “omigod RINGS” and “omigod ring shopping omigod with my future omigod fiancée slash omigod husband” has her a wee bit nervous. To my subconscious, ring = lifelong commitment = never sleeping with anyone else ever again (what can I say, she’s a total whore). Whereas to me, ring = lifelong commitment = being with the guy I love love love for the rest of my life.  
 
A friend of mine is at the very beginning stages of a relationship. It goes something like this: 
 
“Clink, omigod, he’s AMAZING.” 
 
“He said he’d call in a few days. So yeah, we’ll set something up then. I cannot wait.” 
 
“He hasn’t called and it’s already Friday. I thought for sure he’d want to do something this weekend. I’m getting a little concerned.” 
 
“OMIGOD WHY HASN’T HE CALLED! WAH! IT’S BECAUSE I’M FAT! AND BLONDE! AND FROM
NEW HAMPSHIRE! THAT’S IT! I’M NEVER EATING AGAIN! AND I’M DYING MY HAIR! AND CHANGING MY PLACE OF BIRTH ON MY BIRTH CERTIFICATE!”  
 
“He called! We’re hanging out tomorrow! OMIGOD, he’s amazing.” 
 
Wash, rinse, repeat. 
 
Whenever I get nostalgic for the beginning of my relationship with M, I read my journals or my archives. It’s less a sense of “oh, I wish we could go back to that” and more “wow, look how far we’ve come.” 
 
While in retrospect the ride – he loves me? He loves me not. He loves me! – was fun, and necessary, I’d rather be where we are now. And I certainly don’t miss the pre-M days, when life was a blur of uncomfortable heels and uncomfortable dates. It’s nice not to have any regrets (I had casual sex! And it sucked! And now I’ll never be 40 years old and married with 3 kids and wondering about what it would be like to have casual sex! Because I already know that it sucks!). I was on the track that was right for me and now I’m at a place that is right for me. 
 
My slut subconscious, however, is another story. Listen, girl. I’m happy. And while the sex dreams are kind of nice, I’m really sick of waking up blushing and feeling like I’m keeping a secret from M. Cut it out and get on board the monogamy train. Because if I’m only going to have sex with one person for the rest of my life, M ain’t such a bad choice. Agreed?