Dreaming of Ryan Gosling

Oh boy, there’s a Public Historian Ryan Gosling meme now (click on the image to access the site). Allow me to share my thoughts and feelings with you.

So let me make it clear, I have no problem with Ryan Gosling. What’s not to like about him? He’s talented, he’s undeniably handsome, and he’s made statements about the MPAA’s sexist ratings double-standard that has warmed the cockles (ha!) of my feminist heart. That being said, I liked him, but I wasn’t crazy about him. I don’t really obsess over many things, and he wasn’t one of them.

Then the dreams started happening.

For a solid week, I dreamed about Ryan Gosling. Not only did I dream about him, but I was night-dating him. I dreamed that he was my boyfriend, that he was hopelessly in love with me, that he would succumb to my every whim and thought I was God’s gift to humankind. I dreamed that he wanted nothing more than to spend days lying next to me in bed, running his hands through my hair, and professing that there was nothing he would rather do more than be with me. And the kissing. Oh, the kissing.

Needless to say, the dreams were incredibly real, and I started to realize that when I woke up, I accepted this as a matter of fact. Ryan Gosling and I were dating, or we had dated, and he just wasn’t in the room at that moment. I actually woke up thinking that I had a deeply romantic relationship with Ryan Gosling, and how REAL it felt continues to freak me out even today.

The dreams have since stopped, but now I can’t look at any picture of him, see any movie trailer or interview with him, or read articles about him without feeling INCREDIBLY AWKWARD FOR ABSOLUTELY NO REASON. I feel like I’m looking at an ex that has moved on without me, even though that’s absolutely not true. I actually averted my eyes not too long ago when I saw a poster of him for “Ides of March”, and one time I think I told myself that I was better off without him. Clearly I am delusional.