Dora's Corner: +Self-Indulgence: ...Have You Any Dreams You'd Like to Sell?

...Okay, so the song goes: "...have you any dreams you'd like to sell?"
I ponder this, to whom/which lover was Stevie Nicks referring to, as if we need ask...of course, it was Lindsey Buckingham himself for whom the beautiful lyrics and song ("Dreams") were written.
If she was asking her lover (ex-lover) to sell her his dreams so that she could better understand him, then I can definitely understand her.  I can understand all too well how she was feeling.  I, too, wish that a certain person would have sold me his/her dreams so that I could better understand him/her.  But, oh, that was long ago...actually, not that long ago...the person is my muse of late.  I would give anything for the sweet, beautiful person to sell me his/her dreams.  To know the person, well, it might actually not only help me to know and like the person better, but perhaps, the person could know me and like me as much as I do.  Reciprocate, reciprocate, reciprocate...
My own dreams, the ones that could come true, are delayed, and perhaps even dwindling, because each day that my emotions and feelings are not properly addressed, I am left haphazardly alone and sad and in wonderment of "what could be."  It is a sad state-of-affairs in which I currently dwell and reside.  I wish I could tear at the very fabric of myself to find the me who was ecstatically happy, somewhat fancy-free, and steadily secure...until that glance.  
The glance that saw me crash into an invisible wall; the glance that made my knees fold; the glance that left me unable to breathe; the glance that made my heart skip a beat unlike any arrhythmia that my chest has been put through; the glance that has made my words turn awfully corny.  The one special, phenomenal, beautiful glance that I began, and you answered, on that awesome and unforgettable Tuesday morning.  I glanced your way, bid you fare salutations, you replied, and further added that the morning "was cold."  I heard your sweet voice, and I looked back...then thunder struck...the glance...the glance...the glance.  I glanced your way, and my heart you took.  Oh, the pain of it all.  I remain in an ambiguous, beguiling, and love-struck world...never knowing, never knowing, never knowing.  Should I tell you, perhaps hidden is how my feelings should be left...no one gets hurt except my need to be with you.  What to do, what to do, what to do...