Girl of His Dreams...

"So you just don't date?"

"I have a few times, but it's not worth the time or energy and honestly it's not fair to the women I go out with. Unless they fully understand that it's just dating, it will never lead anywhere. I'd rather keep looking for her."

"And who is she?"

"Like her name? I don't know."

"Then how do you know she exists?"

"Because I've seen her in my dreams since I was...I don't know, since I was born? I always recognize her. I know she's the one and I know she's out there. She been up here," he tapped his head, "for as long as I can remember."

"In your dreams? I mean I dream of being in class with no pants on but that doesn't mean I'm just waiting for it to happen."

He laughed, "I know it sounds kind of crazy, but I know she's real. It doesn't feel like just a dream. It feels like a memory almost. Or a tugging. Like she's half of my whole and we just fit. So I keep looking for her."

"And she always looks the same in your dreams?"

"Yeah, basically. Her age changes. She's always right around my age. Blonde hair and gray eyes, around 5'6", athletic build. When I would dream about her when I was younger she was always in a soccer uniform or a softball uniform."

"Uh oh."

"Uh oh?"

"Yeah, I mean she's athletic, she's always in sports gear. Maybe you can't find her because she's a lesbian."

"Oh so narrow minded of you. Not all athletic women are lesbians."

"No, sure, some of them are bi."

"You're being homophobic."

"No, I'm playing the odds. And I'm teasing you about your make believe girlfriend."

"I swear she's out there. And I'll keep looking for her. But until then, no, I don't want to be fixed up with your friend. I don't want to get on any of the dating apps. I don't want to send a drink to the brunette at the end of the bar. I'm okay waiting for her. I know she's the one."

------------------

"Wow. Is this you?"

"Yeah. That's me, I was 12 I think."

She looked at the photo and then back at her. "I don't think I've ever seen you with your natural hair color and not wearing your contacts. You look totally different."

"Yeah, that's kind of the point."

"But, seriously, why? I mean and this isn't supposed to sound as creepy as it will, you were a gorgeous 12 year old. Blonde hair and blue eyes, you are the Barbie ideal."

"They are actually gray."

"What?"

"My eyes. They are gray. Here, look." She slid out the contact from her left eye for a moment before rinsing it and putting it back in. 

"Okay, now I don't know at all why you have colored lenses. I mean, who has gray eyes? That's amazing."

"Yeah, well if anyone ever asks you, I don't. I have green eyes and red hair."

"Okay. I mean, I still think it's weird, but it's what you want to do so who am I to talk you out of it. I mean, I can't so I will pretend it's my choice."

"Good idea. I just like this look better. It feels better to me."

Safer. That's the word she would use if she was being honest. But she knew it made her sound crazy; that she knew there was someone out there looking for her because she'd seen him. She had had nightmares her entire life of the moment he found her and she knew that he was looking for a blonde with gray eyes. 

Ever since she was a little girl he would show up. She would be playing soccer with friends and look over to the sideline and he would be standing there. Her stomach would clench and she would know, he was going to kill her. It was always the same boy. Sort of nondescript. He could have been almost anyone. But it wasn't anyone. It was always the same one. As she aged he was still there. Searching for her in crowds. She could feel it in her dreams, the moment he would get near her and he would tell her he had been looking all over for her. She would wake in a cold sweat filled with dread. Knowing once he found her she was never going to be able to get away from him. 

She was still blonde with gray eyes in her nightmares and so in her real life she would be a redhead with green eyes.

A safer choice.