I had an amazing dream last night, an epic love story involving one of my favorite people alive (and me). Mind you, this was not the first time I’ve had an epic-love-story dream about this man, but it has been a few years since the last one. So, it was probably time for another one.
In the dream, my parents were around, as was my brother. Other friends floated in and out of different scenes. The dream spanned the period of many weeks, maybe even months or years. There were occasional meetings between us, me and him. The background of the dream, the other everyday, mundane activities that consume our lives, they were fuzzy. The clearest moments where those when he and I, over the span of what felt like a long expanse of time, were together. A moment in a Starbucks here. A chance meeting on the street there. Finally, in the perfect, emotional, vivid climax, we were standing in a room I’ve never seen before. There were objects around us — tall tables, or maybe shelves in a store, I can’t be sure — but all I could see clearly was him: his eyes, his smile, the flicker of hurt on his face that I knew I had caused.
I hurt this man badly last summer. Well, at least, I think I did … I was fickle and vanished off the face of the Earth. His phone messages grew increasingly frustrated; I had suggested we meet for a weekend of no strings and no pressure, to explore and tease out the friction that has been between us for years but never given free reign to be expressed and tested… I did this, and then I vanished. I panicked. I felt unready, unsure, afraid of what might happen, and I ran. It was a terrible thing to do, and I have a good amount of guilt over it. I haven’t thought about that in a while… until, on my birthday a few weeks ago, he reached out and wished me a happy birthday on my facebook wall. Ever since then, he has been lurking in the dark corners of my mind, the places that you can’t see when light is shining in but that you curiously wonder about in quiet moments. He has been there, waiting for me to find him, and in my dream last night, I went looking.
The climactic moment was just as intense as the last dream I had about him, a dream that I also wrote about and always imagined I’d end up writing a book about (ha! I seem to be on a novel-plot-brainstorming roll lately!). Last night, we met in this place, the details of which I cannot recall, after several conversations, over a long period of time, about how a relationship between us would never work out… that our lives were going in different directions, that our relationship needs were too disparate, etc. But in the final moments, after all that time had passed, we saw each other across that room and were drawn together like magnets. I was physically unable to resist being as near to him as I could, and still it didn’t feel close enough. My eyes never left his. We may have spoken, or perhaps the words we exchanged were all nonverbal. It was SUCH a powerful moment. His soul spoke to mine, and mine to his, and I knew that this was IT. All the doubts, all the wonders, all the missteps and hurt, they were all behind us now. It was me and him, him and me.
It was such an intense moment. I felt completely bared, but safe. Accepted. Understood. Deeply, passionately loved. And I felt all those things in return.
The last two months have been a rocky time — I’ve suffered the breakup of a relationship and a best friendship, and also been dealing with trying times with the family. Clearly, my psyche is reaching out for something that’s comforting and familiar, something that will make me feel adored and accepted without also demanding a great deal of emotional energy. That’s why I had this dream.
And yet……. it’s hard not to let these things become more in my mind. I want to reach out to him, want to try to do this again without freaking out on him, but can I be trusted? Probably not.
Someday, I’m going to run out of time.
This makes me think of “Letters to Juliet.” Ha.