Perfect

So there I was in the middle of my really hard time, being carried along and emotionally held and comforted and strangely enough also emotionally torn up by John Mayer and his music.

As I've mentioned before, my first boyfriend was a seriously talented musician. He left his piano training to follow his dream of playing the guitar and we both poured a lot of money, time and energy into supporting him. I learned about stratocasters from him and amps and would sit and listen to him playing his soul into the strings. There is something incredibly sexy and sensual to me about watching a man pull music out of the strings of an electric guitar. If you break Stevie Ray Vaughn down into looks, he's not what you'd call traditionally sexy, but stick a guitar in front of him and it all changes. I've always called Tin Pan Alley my orgasm song and if I have to explain why, well, maybe you and I can't be friends after all. (No, we still can, I promise!) Same goes for so many others, and when you take an already attractive man and give him a guitar and a busload of talent, well, I melt. Literally and figuratively. So it's not a total surprise that as I was listening to these last two albums of John Mayer's, I found myself becoming attracted to him.

And he's not exactly an ugly man either.

All this is a massive preamble to explain why I think I had the sexiest dream ever that did not involve sex, but did involve John Mayer.

You guys, this dream was so amazing, I spent the entire day after it on a high. It felt so real and so right and so amazing. That's all I can say about it, it was amazing.

I knew at the time I would want to write about it so I made myself these notes to help me remember:

john mayer dream
asked over to his parents' house which he was visiting for a few days because of a birthday or something.
stone at front entrance.
hippy gorgeous older mom like on 90210.
we're so comfortable with each other
cuddling, making out, no sex.
me falling asleep on the couch in the dark while he played on the mic
his mom waking me up to see if i wanted to stay or go home
me being embarrassed that she thought i was "staying over"
listening to him play in the dark as the light grew outside.
watching him pack his gear into his van (he'd brought it for the celebration from his tour)
believing him when he said i was the only one he wanted
knowing i trusted him on tour and wasn't jealous
what a great guy he is and how much i love him
such a great feeling.

I was so happy that morning, it was like I'd lived it and looking at these notes I can vividly remember the dream.

John had come home for a birthday mid-tour and we'd been together for a while as a couple, but had been apart for a few weeks due to the tour, so I was really looking forward to seeing him. The house he came back to was his parents house (and I think I recognize it as a really nice house that belonged to a friend of mine back home when I was growing up.) but it was all grey and blue tones because the dream was happening after the party in the late evening. Everyone had gone home, but John still had his gear set up since he and the band had played a few songs during the party with me just sitting in the corner watching and smiling like a loon, so happy to be watching him play, but even happier to be in the room with him and feeling my stomach flutter each time he'd look up and catch my eye with that glint in his and give me a little smile or wink. Knowing we were sharing something special and just between us even while he was giving the show to everyone.

His Mom, in this dream, was this gorgeous, tall, thin long haired hippy-type woman who gave off this amazing energy and made you smile just by being around her. (I'd been watching 90210 obviously and was probably thinking of this woman; Ivy's Mom. Ok, can we pretend I didn't just tell you I watch 90210 now? Kthnks.)

Overwhemingly in this dream was the feeling of how comfortable we were with each other, John and I. There was no worry or wondering, just the comfort of being with each other and not having to try and not having to talk, just so so comfortable with and around each other and with our relationship and where we were at.

The dream didn't involve sex, there was one point when I was lying on the couch watching him play after the party when he came over and sat down with me and we cuddled and kissed and it was gentle and sexy and hot all at the same time. But there was also the knowing that the urgency we felt while touching was good and that we'd get to it, just not then. Lying in his arms was enough, the smell of him, his warmth, snuggling up against him. And then him heading back to the mic to sing and play quietly, maybe he was working on new songs, but I just lay there blissfully happy and content and I guess I drifted off in the dark listening because next thing I knew, his mom was there, gently waking me and asking if I wanted to stay or if I needed a lift home.

And I remember blushing and being embarrassed that she was asking, because even though she must have known the two of us had been together, I didn't want her knowing we were or thinking of us doing it under her roof and it was funny because it was *me* who was embarrassed, I knew she just wanted to make sure I was safe and comfortable and had a bed to sleep in if I wanted it instead of a couch and she knew that her son was so involved in his music that he might not have thought of it, but I told her no, no thank you, I wasn't going to be staying over because for some reason it was important that she didn't think of me as the girl who was sleeping with her son.

So she went off to bed and I sat there in the dark of the room listening to him play and watching him and we were there all night and dawn came and I could see it getting lighter, but one of the reasons I hadn't wanted to go was that this was his last night in town and we both knew it. So I stood leaning against the stone door as he packed his gear back into his van to take to the airport to head back touring. And once the van was loaded, he came over and took me in his arms and told me I was the only girl he wanted and I knew he meant it and I just knew with all of me that it was true. I knew I didn't have to worry about him on tour; that I wasn't jealous, didn't worry about all the girls and celebs he'd see and all the offers he'd get, I trusted him and it was an amazing feeling. And as he headed off and I headed back home (I think I walked, or rode my bike or something) I remember thinking what a great guy he is and just how much I love him. It was the most amazing feeling being in love with him and having him love me just as much. We had this most incredible relationship and the feeling of it was everything I've ever wanted.

I swear, I was high on the dream for days. I couldn't stop the lovey dovey feeling all day and it didn't leave me for a few days.

Until I made the mistake of telling a co-worker that I'd decided I was going to marry John Mayer.

"He's a douche." he said. "He dated Kristin Cavallari. And has those ridiculous tattoos. Total douche. You can't marry him."

I felt like crying. Partly because he was being so awful about my love, the dream was still lingering in my mind, and partly because of the crashing, crushing reality that I would never have this relationship with this man. I wanted to shout at him that he didn't know John like I did and that he was the most amazing man and that the media just showed only his bad side but I realized I was defending a man I'd met in a dream so all I said was "I don't think he dated Kristin Cavallari you know." but it hurt.

John Mayer doesn't know I exist. Won't ever know I exist most likely. Unless somehow this post makes its way to him and he reads it and decides to track me down and we fall in love and it all works out and we make it work and it turns out just like I dreamed it. Unless that happens he's going to keep on dating celebrities and the women who come across his path. Not me. We're nowhere near each other's worlds and that broke my heart.

Which is how I found myself crying over a relationship I'd never been in. Crying over a dream that had felt so real and had filled me up with comfort and love and companionship and understanding and knowing.

I felt what it felt like to have that true, pure love and it was sad to have it all come crashing down when confronted with reality.

And then looking at the parts of him that aren't attractive and the things you can find about him on line that don't cast him in a flattering light (although, really, if all our lives were taped and followed and dissected as much, none of us would come out unsmeared and perfect) and it was sad to see him as less than the perfect person I'd been so in love with in my dream. The John Mayer I know and listen to and fell in dream love with doesn't exist. So I don't exist in his world (and can I tell you how much it broke my heart all over again to see him linking to a blog he reads where the girl writes about being single and all I could think was...well, so do I, why can't he read mine now I'll never exist in his world) and he doesn't exist at all, but some version of him is real and is an amazingly talented musician and I love his writing and singing and lyrics and stories. But my true love doesn't exist outside of my imagination.

It was nice, for a while though, to have it all so perfect.

If only.


Post Script, edited to add: And then, the same day I write this, he writes this and I think, all over again, maybe....just maybe. Even though it's really really really unlikely.