Dear Jimmy.

A letter's probably too formal, right? You weren't really the formal type of guy, I guess. Not really. A guy who enjoyed his hugs, yes. His beer, yes. Performing, definitely.

...you were just a guy who enjoyed life, any way you could.

I remember the times, when I said I would be a writer... the times my family would scoff and tell me that I'd need a *real* job to support myself and what not, when you would sort of shake your head at them and tell me (a hint of barley in your breath), "Brandon? I'll make a deal with you. I'll be the first guy to go to the tabloids if you get famous."

You were so awesome.

...I hope you're in a great place now...

And I hope the beer is great there. We sure miss you down here.

Greatest Sleep Ever.

I had the most brilliant night of sleep in my life last night. That is probably a lie, but it was so good, I can't bring myself to think about better times of unconsciousness.

Anyway, I was apparently in one of those deep catatonic states, where when you wake up, every part of your body feels so ridiculously heavy... and yet your mind is all happy because it slept deep. So deep that the entire world seemed to melt into oblivion last night. Who knows. Maybe it did and everyone else is dead... but I'm still sleeping, and picturing everyone else up and walking around.

...that would suck.

I also had two very vivid dreams last night. One of them concerned what I can only assuming was a desire I was harboring for quite a while now. The basic gist was... after however long, I found an ex-girlfriend. Because of the time that had passed, were we on somewhat friendly, if not awkward terms. And then, because we never had, right in the middle of the conversastion, I leaned in quickly and kissed her. For a few very quick moments after the kiss, she had this WTF look on her face, and before she could say or do anything, I told her, "I always wanted to do that. I just wanted to know what it would feel like."

In the dream, it felt pretty awesome - but, of course, because my mind seems to work of the basis of reality, she quickly parted and would refuse to be around me for the rest of the dream. It was like our relationship had never ended.

Another part of the dream involved being introduced to a girl by Vance (he of Dr. V fame). He was a friend of his girlfriend's - and this friend happened to be my age. And cute.

Now, I don't use the word "cute" lightly. It's attached to a memory of another girl I used to like (but never had the chance to really date), and I've always liked to keep it self-contained to that memory. But there's really no other word to explain the girl my subconscious concocted.

She had this short... flowing sort of hair cut. Not curly, just... I don't know. It's hard to describe in words. Brown hair, of course, because my mind is very fixated on that color for some reason. The color of her eyes has been lost over the course of the many hours its been since I had this dream... if I had to wager, I'd say green because... well, all of *the* girls in my life have had that eye color. If my mind wanted to be nice to me, however, they would've been brown, or maybe an almost-gray sort of pale blue.

But she had one of those little noses, and a smile that was just... wow. Not a big smile, just a tiny subtle one, but the way it made her nose crinkle on the left side of her face... just that little bit. She was totally perfect. And entirely imaginary. Which was probably why, after a few short moments after meeting her, we were "dating". She asked me, and even though I don't think I responded in words, it was just assumed that... yes. I would go out with this perfect girl who seemed to be instantly fond of me.

All of this leads me to one thing: I really need a real life girlfriend again - because apparently, my mind craves connection. Or maybe I just don't feel like being lonely right now. Who knows. Either way, it's something I should probably work on.

And Now For Something Completely Different.

For those of you expecting some Python, sorry - this is going to be the direct opposite of that. Think in the style of "classic" Soupy Toasterson, and you'll be in the ballpark.

This is What I Remember

It's been what. Six weeks now? More? I don't know. It actually probably depends on when we stopped lying, and really stopped talking to each other. Because there was a difference. There was that time we said good-bye, and then continued to stalk each other through other contacts. And then, there was that time where we got so angry at each other, that we kept talking to each other just to spite the other person. And then, there was the time that we finally dropped everything on the table - our history, our present, our future - and left it all behind for good. I don't know about you, but I think that's the real day everything ended - mostly because I immediately spent the next several moments ridding my life of things that reminded me of you.

The green sparkle pen, the pictures of years-gone-by on the computer, the notes on grid paper, the two real pictures that I had of you, the play lists I made for you...

I was surprised by how little time it took to gather up over five years and pack it away. But whatever. That's still how it happened.

And after I did that, the most amazing thing started happening. You started to fade. The things you liked to say, the way you used to laugh, the way you'd act as though you caught me when you caught me just... looking at you. All that. I started to realize that those memories were becoming much fuzzier around the edges - as if they hadn't really existed at all, fabrications of my own little mind.

And soon, that's probably what I'll think they were. Memories of things that never could have happened. I mean, really. In so many years, will I believe that I felt so strongly for you, when I don't even remember what you look like, what you sound like? And when I see you again - if I see you again - and you're this completely different person, with this completely different life, it'll only prove me right. The you in my head - she never existed. That wonderful person, that girl who could make me smile just by paying the littlest amount of attention to me... all just some cruel ruse my head decided would be funny.

But of course, I'll still remember that time in my life as if it were real. It'll just never, ever feel like it did. But what can you do? Life goes on...

Stay tuned.

-B.