Matt Damon? Absolutely!

In December 2001 I had a dream about Matt Damon. It was such a vivid and amazing dream that upon waking up I immediately grabbed a pen and paper and wrote it all down so that I would NEVER forget that dream. I dream about celebrities a lot (in fact, last night Jonathan Rhys-Meyer had a crush on my sister). For a while I wrote them all down. But none ever matched my first dream about Matt Damon.

At the time I wasn’t a particularly huge fan of his – so I have no idea why he showed up in the dream. But I tell you what – upon waking from this dream? I became his NUMBER ONE FAN. *lol*

So yes, I do think Matt Damon should be this year’s pick for Sexiest Man Alive.

Entire transcript of the dream behind the link – and it’s LONG, so be prepared. Also, in the dream I woke up from a dream, but then later on I actually DID wake up – which I incorporated into the story (it even mentions Cooper, who we had only had for a couple of months at the time of this dream).

Matt Damon as The Soldier

We’re fighting. Not fist-fighting or even having a screaming match. No, we’re all dressed up in our finest rah-rah WWII military fatigues, and The Soldier is on the other team.

We’re shooting at each other, but when someone is hit, he doesn’t explode in a mess of blood and bone, but rather, grabs his chest, moan unconsolably and falls to the ground gasping “I’m hit!” like you see in old John Wayne movies.

It seems the teams are running drills, practicing for the next time, when it’s For Real. With a sign of relief I aim my gun and pull the trigger, grateful that no one will die. Not this time.

In an instant I’m running across the large quad – I’m late. I sprint up the stairs and enter the large town hall. The cavernous room, normally filled with people attending wedding receptions or dinners for visiting state officials, is filled with soldiers, the fighting men and women. Some I know, others I’ve never seen. Looking around, I spot an open space by a window, and scoot in that direction as Charlie gets up to speak.

“I just want to say a few words before I sing,” he announces bashfully, fingering the delicate wine glass in his hand. “This means a lot to me.”

I reach the window as he continues talking about honor, duty, pride. Leaning against the sill, I look out at the bright green lawn and breathe a sigh of relief – I didn’t miss anything.

I wonder where The Soldier is. When I last saw him he was at the drill, laughing with his buddies, dirt and sweat mingling in a smear on his flushed cheek.

“Excuse me,” I heard off to my side. Someone steps up next to me. I turn – it’s The Soldier.

Freshly showered and in his sharpest uniform, he’s carrying his dress cap in the crook of his arm. The Soldier grins engagingly at me, his brilliantly white teeth gleaming against his healthy California tan. I smile back awkwardly, surprised to see him there.

I have never spoken to him. Not personally. Never more than one sentence at a time. I don’t even know his name, and content myself with calling him “The Soldier”, knowing that I’ll always remember who I mean. I’ve never spoken to anyone in my circle about the affection I feel for him – they’d think I was crazy for not just going up to him and introducing myself, getting it over with.

I find myself sometimes sitting in the cafeteria, looking out for him at the entrance, and upon seeing him, feel the blood rush to my cheeks as I quickly turn away. A handful of times he’s caught me staring at him, but always smiles at me, polite and friendly to no end.

So as my gaze captures my close-up view of his smiling face forever into my memory, I stand there stupidly, smiling back at him. Because, you know, man in uniform HOT.

I see his mouth moving – he’s talking to me, still with that wonderful smile. But I can’t hear him now. He’s too close and the noise in the room has amplified in my head until all I hear is a dull roar. And from the din I cannot make out The Soldier’s voice.

Without bothering to attempt an explanation, I tear myself away from where I stand. I brush past The Soldier and rush for one of the doorways nearby.

I find myself in a long hallway, with a crush of people at the end. Like a movie effect, with each step I take in that direction, the hall extends, taking me further away from my escape. I look back and see The Soldier has followed me, his face contorted in concern. He raises his hand to gesture for me to stop, but I turn away and continue down the never-ending hallway.

After what feels like a thousand steps I reach the doorway and find myself looking in at a casino. A casino! The perfect escape! I have heard through the grapevine that The Soldier used to like gambling too much and has since forbidden himself from entering any casino. I quickly step inside and take a final look back.

The Soldier stands on the other side of the doorway. His face has fallen, and his dull eyes now search my face, begging for an answer. I have none. I don’t know why I ran away, I just did – I couldn’t control it. Turning away from the pain in his eyes, I ventured further into the casino.

Several hours later (although only moments in my mind), I decided I could safely leave the casino and not see The Soldier. I find another exit and drift through with a few other patrons. I’m in another hallway, this one cluttered with old furniture, stacks of files, and other useless junk. As I turn a corner, there he is.

The Soldier.

He’s leaning against the one inch of space on the wall that’s not taken up by dusty debris, his uniform still perfectly immaculate. He’s near a door that’s open to the quad I had run across earlier. I can feel the breeze and I can see it drift through The Soldier’s hair, ruffling it slightly.

When he sees me, he stands up straight, waiting to see whether I run or stay. No word is spoken, and I slowly make my way towards the door, my eyes refusing to meet his. He steps in front of me, blocking me way, silently questioning me.

I’m so close to the door. The breeze is stronger now. But so is the pull I feel towards The Soldier. We’re in the doorway, and even though I can run, my feet won’t move. Our bodies are pressed together, and The Soldier reaches out to grip my arms, willing me to look at him.

My attraction to him is potent, and I’m helpless against it. With a muffled cry I wrench my arms from his firm grasp and push him against the doorjam. But instead of running,, this time I run my hands up his chest and they dive into his hair. Pinning him back I lean over and press my lips against his.

The connection is magic, our hearts combining into one beat, our mouths frantic for the taste of the other. We’re oblivious to anything around us as we hungrily devour each other.

***

Suddenly, in my dream I’m awake, sitting on my bed in my college dorm room, my friends laughing at my sudden lurch into the real world.

“Interrupt something?” Mike asked, stifling a guffaw. He’s actually not in my dorm room, but is standing at the window, outside. We’re on the first floor and men aren’t allowed in the girl’s dorm, so this is what we do to get around the strict rules.

Ticked off at the rude awakening and the sadness that I’ll never know what happened with The Soldier after the kiss, I grumble, “Why did you wake me up? I was having a good dream and don’t appreciate the interruption!”

My roommate Wendy, knowing what a bear I am if I am woken up, hands over a pad and pen, saying, “Why don’t you write it down? Then you’ll be able to enjoy it later.”

I take them from her, considering the idea. It’s a good one.

Just as I begin to write the tale before it’s vivid images leaves my head, I hear a whine at my side.

***

Rolling over, I wake up and find my four-month-old puppy, Cooper, staring at me in the dark. The clock blinks 3:18 a.m. and he wants to be let outside.

“Cooper, you interrupted a VERY weird but good dream. You had BETTER pee when I take you outside.”

We trundled downstairs and I open the backdoor to let him out. He runs to the grass, does his business, and immediately comes running back inside. This December night it was pretty cold, so he didn’t want to linger.

After getting Cooper settled again on his bed, I bury myself under my down comforter and will myself back to sleep, hoping that despite being awake for ten minutes that I’ll be able to sink into the same dream with The Soldier.

***

In an instant I’m running across the large quad – I’m late. But this time I’m pushing what seems to be a lawn mower. A LAWN MOWER? This wasn’t here last time. This is adding on seconds to me time – I’m going to be later than I was last time.

Leaving the mower at the door, I rush into the large hall. Charlie is already halfway through his speech. I look over to the window – my spot is still available by the window. But this time The Soldier is already on his way over there – as if he, too, knows where he needs to be in this scene.

I’m still standing there when I see him turn and look around – is he looking for me? Does he know that I’m meant to be there? I’m staring at him, willing him to find me in the crowd that has suddenly pressed in, not allowing me to move toward him.

And then he sees me, and he smiles brightly, and he raises his hand to let me know he’s seen me. It’s all going to happen again. I can feel it. I’m going to run, and he’s going to follow, and he’ll wait for me on the other side of the casino. And we’ll kiss. And it’ll be magical and everything I’ve ever dreamed of. If only he would hurry up.

***

I hear a loud beeping noise and sit up. It’s now 6:45 a.m. and I’m late for work. Cooper grins up at me from his bed, as if he knows I was interrupted…again.