Dreaming of Darcy

Recently I have developed a crush on this rugged sir. He is tall, dark and oh so handsome. Oh and um bearded. Duh. As if I would waste time with a clean-shaven man. So the other night, my sister Savvy and I had our friend Dana over for a girls movie night in. We watched the movie Austenland where the heroine is so obsessed with Jane Austen that she goes to a Pemberley-esque estate (if you read Jane Austen you would know this is Mr. Darcy’s luxe home in England) to re-enact Jane Austen novels including balls and suitors. I love Jane Austen and Pride and Prejudice is one of my favorite books. So is it any surprise that I kind of want to learn all the fancy, somewhat complicated looking dances they do for… oh I don’t know my wedding one day? Or is it concerning that I sort of want my future husband to maybe dress up like Mr. Darcy and talk to me in a British accent just for kicks? Or am I just like every girl (including the fictional one in the movie) who has an undying love and appreciation for Jane Austen secretly hoping she finds her own Darcy one day and then that will be that. Perfection.

So with all this lead up I think it’s no surprise that I had this dream:

I was at my parents house helping them when I found out that they knew my crush (the tall dark and handsome one, to be called T.D.H from here on out). My parents were doing a home repair project and had to go and consult with T.D.H about it. I ever so coyly decided to go with them so I could bump into him. When we got there, I realized I was only in spandex shorts and a sports bra (throwback to my Biggest Loser days perhaps? And how I would not have realized this before leaving the house is beyond me, but dreams, who can figure?). We went into his house without knocking, (it looked like a smaller U.P. version of Pemberley) and while my parents searched out T.D.H I took one of his curtains and fashioned a rather fetching grey dress that looked very Grecian, very posh, very fit for a ball perhaps?

When Tall Dark and Handsome saw me he looked surprised. Not that I was wearing one of his curtains, but that I coincidentally was in his home. I could tell the difference, even in my dream. It wasn’t a look of why are you wearing my curtain, it was ooh, here you are, what a happy accident. Does anyone smell the scene of a rom-com happening here? Yes, that is exactly what you smell.

There were a few people over his already and more and more people kept arriving, flooding the living room like a party was going on. And T.D.H was in a tuxedo. And he looked good, real good. His beard was in top form and he told stories to the room, captivating everyone’s attention and making them laugh. Because besides having a beard, he’s also funny and charming, this crush of mine.

I sat down on a long sofa near him and sat rapt, while continually catching his eye so he would know my affection for him. At this point the crowd began to mix and mingle with each other as apparently this was a full-blown soiree and my parents forgot all about home repairs and so did I. Suddenly my crush leaned in and brazenly whispered in my ear, “admit it, you find me attractive.”

Now normally the heroine of a Jane Austen film would scoff and be completely put off by such arrogance. I however, have never been that good at indignation. And besides once I am crushing hard, I can’t really think of much else. So dream me was ecstatic that he had picked up on my not-at-all-subtle clues of showing up at his house uninvited and then smiling inanely at him all evening. Besides, this man was allowed a little arrogance. A little is okay.

After this proclamation he turned away as if he wasn’t even interested in the answer, he already knew. But I stared at his profile for a moment waiting for him to turn back to me and when he inevitably did, I nodded: yep sure do find you mighty attractive my nod said. Then he whispered, “come with me.”

As if it weren’t bad enough that I initially forgot to wear clothes to his house, instead of just running off with him, stupid, uncouth dream me asked if I could first use the bathroom. Rookie. In the bathroom, something seemed to be wrong with his pipes as a mixture of toilet water and shower water started to explode all over me until it looked like I peed my pants. But lucky for me, it appeared that T.D.H did indeed have something in common with Mr. Darcy and he had a maid, decked out in old fashioned servants clothes and all. She sensed my distress and ran in to assist me and make me presentable again so that T.D.H wouldn’t know that not only had I turned one of his curtains into a dress, but that his toilet had exploded on me.

But again, unlike most heroines who would love that everything worked out with none the wiser, I refuse to be that suave. As soon as I got in T.D.H’s perfect old fashioned truck, I confessed the whole thing, because I thought it would make for a funny story. Of course he laughed and laughed, like he thought I was just a delightful little goose. Because my crush is cute like that and is not only funny but thinks I’m funny too.

Then when I suspected a kiss was about to happen, I got too excited. So excited that I could feel the dream slipping away from me, like stupid fickle dreams are wont to do. Also as he leaned in I panicked because I hadn’t brushed my teeth. As if it weren’t bad enough that I was wearing a curtain and had been peed on by his toilet, I also had to have bad breath? Well, my crush didn’t get to find out a thing about my breath, because I woke up. Agitated I stormed to the bathroom to brush my teeth. But secretly I was still thrilled. T.D.H and Mr. Darcy. They were deliciously intertwined. Of course it was only in my dreams, but I for one think it bodes well.

Sure my brain probably just latched onto my crush and placed him in a Jane Austen-esque dream because of the movie and because of my wild and romantic imagination. That might be the logical conclusion. But… there is the possibility that I do have a Mr. Darcy and maybe he’s my crush and maybe he’s not. But why rule out wild and romantic possibility? Why would I ever do that? And until I find out, I am content letting my imagination be wild and romantic, even in sleep.

Author: Cassandcastle

"Have you fantasized about this moment as much as I have?" That's what I am going to say when I finally introduce myself to the Parisian croissant. Also if I don't ride the Trans-Siberian Railway soon, what's my life all about? I like food, I like travel more. Or maybe vice versa. I can never decide.

One thought on “Dreaming of Darcy”

  1. You know pemberly actually exits right!? I mean it’s actually not called pemberly… But it’s there waiting for a visit…. Sadly I’ve yet to spot Mr Darcy…. But I live in hope!

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