rach(a)els & jo(h)ns

There are a number of “Jo(h)n”s in my life and an even larger number of “Robert”s.

Almost every Jo(h)n I know is the kindest, most giving man I have ever met. Each time I am introduced to a new Jo(h)n I begin the conversation by telling them this and the blush from flattery tints their face right before they turn sad and gray from the burden of expectation just placed in their hands.

Yet almost every Jo(h)n lives up to this expectation and I do not know if they are kind and giving naturally or if they change just for me so I won’t be disappointed. I think they’re naturals. I’ve known them too long. It gets exhausting to keep up appearances.

All the Jo(h)ns combined have become my giving gang. Each one resides in a  different part of the past or present, and in a different geographical region. Even though I know I may never see some of them again, I know that if I do I will be taken care of like a stranger who somehow ended up on their doorstep in the pouring rain, or like a loved, yet estranged family member, who reaches back out for affection.

(The Roberts have all been funny.)

And today there are Rach(a)els. Each of them I barely know. They are only names or faces, an occasional “hello,” yet they are the subject of my dreams, both day and night.

They are sensuous, dark, mysterious women. Half their faces are hidden in shadow at high noon, hair is constantly getting swept across their face during windless days, they wear all white but you compliment them with, “I love your black dress.”

I’ve been dreaming about one of them more often than the rest. In each dream I’m meeting her for the first time. She’s instantly at ease with herself, and in turn, with me, and is friendly and warm. She’s as cute as a button with porcelain skin and heavy, soft bangs. Her lips are always stained and her skin is always powdered.

We were at a cocktail party in one dream and at someone’s house for a quick visit in another. She can dress up, she can dress down; she looks amazing no matter which direction. At the cocktail party she flashed me a genuine smile while I rambled through a list of small talk topics I found on buzzfeed. She acted mesmerized by my conversational ability.

One of the other Rach(a)els I don’t dream about as frequently, but I watch her often in my head. She’s one of those effortless seducers, one of those people you want because they’re never there. They don’t give so you can’t wait to take. She has the body of an amazon woman and the face of a pixie. She spends most of her time alone, but always in large groups.

Both have been on my mind lately and my mind’s been pretty free, so I’m going to let them stay.

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