I’ve been thinking a lot about kissing lately. Even though this isn’t strange for some sixteen-year old girls, for a nerd who makes fun of teenage couples and romantic movies (excluding musicals and Annie Hall, which everyone should love), this is an odd thing.

Maybe it’s because I realized it’s only been a year since my first and only boyfriend, Gabe, broke up with me. Maybe it’s because of the upcoming Valentine’s Day (my least favorite holiday. I know that makes me sound chubby, but it really is a stupid holiday.). Maybe it’s because of my newfound fascination with Charlie.

I’ve started having dreams about kissing.

The first one was a week or two ago. The dream took place at the Hunger Games, even though I hated that book and have never seen the movie. In the dream, there was something about finding a baby? You know how dreams are. Suddenly, (or maybe not suddenly. I usually don’t remember my dreams, only flashes of setting and basic plot points.) Henry Regier was there. In the real world, I was in a play with him this summer. He was our Valjean, and a beautiful one at that. He’s basically a rockstar. I’ve had a talent crush on him ever since, so I didn’t mind this dream. I dreamed that he tried to kiss me, and I pulled away, but when he tried again, I let him. We were standing, and I think he was holding my hand. It was a soft kiss, over in a second, but I could feel it. It’s strange, but I could actually feel his lips on mine, even after I woke up. This is time this happened.

The second kiss dream was a day or two later. It was with Gabe, and it wasn’t a small kiss, is was a full-on makeout thing, even though I’ve never madeout with anyone. There was a brick wall behind us, but I think we were in a hallway? This is all I remember about the dream.

The third dream is arguably the most bizarre. In it, I dreamed that my mom gave me this fancy present. Inside was a ticket to Florida (not a city or anywhere specific, just a ticket to Florida. Now that I think of it, it wasn’t even a ticket, it was a piece of paper with “Florida” written in calligraphy.) I was excited, even though in real life I’ve always been pretty indifferent toward Florida. I don’t even like going to the beach, or anywhere outside. The next thing I remember is a huge man-made fountain, postcard-worthy in all of its glory. I think I was at a resort or something. I then remember being on a balcony or terrace or something, with white lounge chairs and green palm trees swaying, and the magnificent fountain in the background. Why my subconscious filled this dream with stock-footage of beaches, I’ll never know. And with me was Annyong from the TV show Arrested Development. I will never understand how dreams work. He kissed me. It was abrupt and sudden, and I think I woke up after that. I have no details, I just know that it happened.

The fourth happened two days ago. I don’t remember much about the dream except for the kiss part. It took place in some poorly-lit vapid apartment with beige walls, I think. I know that up until then, I had been in the dream as myself, but then I became Fran from The Nanny. (I watch a lot of TV.) If you’ve seen the episode where she and Mr. Sheffield kiss for the first time, that’s sort of how this played out. Mr. Sheffield came into the apartment and kissed me. It was kind of like the scene from the show, (same costumes, too) but in my dream he dipped me. I don’t remember how the kiss felt, but I could feel his hand on my lower back in the same way I could feel the kiss in the first dream. Even when I woke up, I could still feel his hand on my lower back. (It could possibly be noted that on the day that the dream occurred, my drama class was learning to waltz for a scene, and Charlie was my partner. I might have noticed his hand in the same place.) I don’t remember anything else that happened before this or after this.

I don’t know what to make of all of this. I usually never remember my dreams, let alone recurring themes. Maybe I’m just crazy. I haven’t done anything in real life for my subconscious (or whatever controls your dreams, I’m not that smart) to be playing with, if that’s how dreams work.

Although, during the day, I’ll occasionally find my thoughts drifting toward Charlie.