The Devil in the Red Dress

The girl of my dreams becomes the devil in a red dress for many reasons.  Its not an individualistic thing, at least I hope so, because the reasons why I like her should be valid.  She is a lovely, kind, smart, funny young woman who I like to hang out with.  Definitely not built on hope, or desires.  But what have we got if we don’t have hopes or desires.  Or dreams.  She’s the devil at the moment because she’s inconsistent, leaving me unable to understand what it is I see in her.  Is it her? Or me? What am I thinking about when I think of her? You’re absolutely right, you guessed it, world peace.

So why the distress I hear you ask? I guess its easy, and in fact correct, by saying that the inconsistencies float to the surface every time I bump into her.  Why do we always want something we can’t have?  Is it a macho male driven thing, or is it we cannot have what we want because the girl isn’t the devil, its actually the girl in the red dress doesn’t exist.  The major issue stems from the realisation that I don’t think I actually like the girl in particular, I just like the character she’s plays in my head.  Kind of a “based on a true story” type deal.  But in my head she’s loosely portrayed of a person who actually exists, but who I don’t know all that well.  So we make shit up so that our fantasies are enjoyable.  I mean, you can’t relive a ten minute conversation you’ve actually had in your dreams, why bother.  She can be a million times more wonderful, charming, sweet and innocent. And loving. And caring. And affectionate.

I wonder if all our dreams are like this, or just the ones with the devil in the red dress. I guess, you hope your wrong, but desire to be right.