the dreaded dream (or on being heartbroken)

Tonight I had a weird dream.

Well, it’s not the first time I dream a future job interview. However, this time it became a total nightmare. Is it because I am heartbroken?

I am entering the building. I remember how it looks like, roughly. I have been here six years ago, as young undergraduate. I got a glimpse of the place I wanted to work. I chatted with the man I wanted to be my future boss.

At the reception, they allow me to go upstairs with a guest badge. He is sitting on a comfortable armchair, next to him someone else, with my CV in hands.

“So, let’s check a moment this document” says the someone else. It has nothing to do with my actual CV, except my name’s on it. Each section is ridiculous. I have studied in a tiny unknown university. The publications listed are not even mine. Among the languages I pretend I can speak, there are Bengali and Mandarin. And I listed 50 hobbies, because?

He is not speaking, just watches me become more and more embarrassed trying to explain that I must have made a mistake sending the CV.

What could be the real reason behind this “CV fear” of mine? I believe it is not enough. Not for this place, at least. No proper publications, no great marks, nothing fancy to show off. So, in my dream the CV was ridiculous according to my standards, but what if my actual experience and showcase of it is truly inadequate?

At university I took a course where we were skilfully prepared on scientific presentations, including how to avoid many issues and problems when it is time to show your results on slides — great course to be honest, the world is already too full of people who present with blue slides and yellow text. Not everyone has an innate aesthetic taste, so sometimes is good to be reminded that cubes animation, shapes flying in and out, improbable color matching are all things which will take away marks from average. Of all the avoidable mistakes, the first one I make is that I am actually not able to present. There seems to be a complete incompatibility between my computer and the projector. And I have no backup plans.

So we just start having a chat, the whole team and I, while the boss, despite being present, has not said anything to me yet. Among the members of the team there’s a girl which used to work in the laboratory where I am currently. Except in real life I know for sure she’s not there. She’s wearing a grey-blue Harvard Medical School hoodie. After I compliment her on the choice, I realize I am wearing a matching one. And here is all I can remember of the silly dream.

How is this a nightmare, might be the question. And by all means, why would this be connected with being heartbroken.

See, the thing is, I am not heartbroken by someone else, rather by my own idea. I built up in my brain the perfect workplace, the greatest team — All, of course, based on my own perception of what I would find “perfect” and “great”, nothing objective here.

He would be smart, posed for science. Recognizing how important it is to remain humble and strive for growth every day. He would know that, regardless how “cutting-edge” the work of his team (led by himself), set backs would be there, negative sides which needed work. He would enjoy witty conversations, clever and brilliant ideas. He would dive head first with enthusiasm in the project suggested by the members of the group. He would support us all, with his greatest ability: to shine his light on the shadows we could not conquer alone, teaching us how to do it by ourselves once we had set sails from his harbor.

Better sailors, ready to be captains of our own ships, off to explore new bays, with the knowledge that there would always be a safe place where to make port in case of storm.

Now all the hints point to the fact that He might not at all be this almighty mentor figure I made up by myself. Per se, there’s nothing wrong in the fact that He is how He is. However, the shattering of this ideal left me truly heartbroken.

Suddenly today, I remembered a story I read here on medium. And I realized some of those words applied to my situation as well. Where it says “ The people we want to love, who we think will complete us — they are often versions of ourselves that we wish we could be.”

The utopian character I drew in my mind is the version of myself I wish to be in some years.

I hope I never forget how younger me wanted to be when she’s all grown up.