What is a man to do?

So what is a man to do when his mind begins to turn on him, taunting him with images of the past? I've had a dream, a dream about Megan - someone who I had long forgotten. These past few days have been nothing but a constant reliving of that dream as she has been on my mind all night and day. I have no idea what brought this on, as I did state before I completely forgot about her, though it always seems to go this route. I see her about once a year and during that time she always drives me insane - completely insane! Its one of those mistakes, one of those people you walked out on, that you just cant live down. Anyways, after consulting a close friend they suggested just merely calling her, but I realize how strange that would seem to her. After all, a guy who blows you off for two years immediately calls you after three-years of nothing in a vain attempt to answer some dream he had? On top of that I would have to admit going through the phone book to find her number, which I find is perfect symbolism of how close I let us come.

This dream did bring some good with it though, a blessing in disguise if you will. After reading over some of my previous works I was left with a sense of questioning as even I had forgotten their vague meanings and subtle hints. This dream answered a question for me and I now know whom the picture was of, it was of Megan.

Lastly, an excerpt from my dream:

She stood there as if she didn’t have a choice, as if my mind had dragged her to this location and she was but awaiting a few minutes for the image of her perfect face to be burnt into my mind so that the punishment for not wanting her wouldn’t come from her, but rather from my own mind as it would forever haunt me with the 'what if' scenarios. She impatiently stood there for a brief moment before, once again, she would take flight into the night and forever leave me with the haunting memories as a tragic payback for not wanting her, for not taking her when it was all laid out right before me. I could envision her laughing as she took off into the night, but that wouldn’t be suiting her; instead she would merely leave in a cold callous fashion without so much as making eye contact to ensure the cut would run the deepest. She, as well as I, both knew that her haunting memory would be more than enough punishment for what I didn’t do.