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Last night, I dreamed about Prototype — a lovely young lady in Louisiana I spent time with briefly. Our time together was short, but our energy has been unforgettable.
If you’re not familiar with the OutKast song Prototype lead by Andre 3000, I’ll give you a sample of the lyrics for reference:
I hope that you’re the one. If not, you are the prototype…
Andre 3000, Prototype, album Speakerboxxx/The Love Below.
I nicknamed the lovely young lady Prototype among other nicknames, because I believe we could have created a happy life and family together.
I think about her often. I scroll through photos on her Facebook until I get to the shots I captured.
The Dream
In the dream, we were both at a mutual friend’s cookout. I was alone. She was with a boyfriend/husband, and she was pregnant.
She brought a homemade cheese dip. I was fan of it, because she made it and because it was hers. I joined into some childish bashing of corny dudes within earshot of her sitting at a serving table with her partner. I was being blatantly disrespectful.
At one instance, I went to request a serving of her cheese dip, and she poured the ladle-full dip onto my plate without looking in my direction. I asked her if there were more chips — a question that she ignored.
Uninterpretable
I haven’t played the childish, bro-type person in some time. So, I’m not sure what to make of the dream.
I appreciated dreaming about the young lady again. I recall her being with a man and also pregnant one of the last times I posted birthday wishes on her social media page.
I think about her still often. As frequently, I think about what I would do differently to lean toward us working as a pair instead of the opposite — as I had done. Just as often, I wonder if she would even have me back then or farther along in life.
She’s the one I make the terrible joke saying she “should be the mother of my kids”.
She’s the Prototype…The Lovely Miss…Black Elizabeth Banks.