Sweet Dreams Are Made of These

Last night, I dreamed I got to tell Richard Kruspe how much Rammstein had helped me. He was walking past the Bellamy Building in Tallahassee, and I caught up to him and shook his hand and thanked him and told him that Rammstein made my life better, easier to cope with on the bad days. He was very gracious and attentive. He actually listened, and Dream!me was exhilarated to finally be heard by anyone about anything. He gave me a hug, and I just felt...cared for--connected to people and valued for being me. He didn't have a discernible scent, but he was very warm. He was also a bit of a flirt because after I kissed him on the cheek, he told me to do it again, like I meant it. And again. And again. The last one landed on the side of his mouth, and he laughed.

When I told him I'd gone to two shows(this was during the MiG tour), he asked if I were going to the one in South Carolina, and when I said I couldn't afford it, he offered me two tickets and insisted that I had to come. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet and made me promise that I would come. Roomie eventually ambled up, and when I explained that we'd been together for fifteen years, he was impressed. I woke up after that, and the feeling of being cherished lingers still, I'm going to savor it for as long as I can.