I’ve been having more vivid dreams lately. I’m not sure if it’s the increase in the dosage of my lamotrigine or if my brain is just full of stuff it needs to chew up.
I woke up this morning remembering three dreams.
In the first dream I was supposed to go to some kind of party like a baby shower or a wedding shower or something civilized and girly like that. I was just going to walk because it was close, but the more I walked through the subdivision, the more lost I got. The houses were big and fancy, but similar enough where every place I walked looked the same. I couldn’t find any landmarks even when I walked through the woods and backyards behind the houses.
The second dream was about my daddy, who in real life died about ten years ago. We were in a house (maybe in that same subdivision from the first dream, I’m not sure) and he and someone else had come in from doing some kind of hard work like yard work or cutting trees or something. Daddy came in and sat down and was having something cold, I don’t remember if it was a drink or ice cream or what. He was talking and laughing with us and suddenly he stiffened and I knew something was wrong. It was like he was having a stroke or something. I jumped up worried while everybody else in the room was joking about it, not thinking anything was really the matter. Then Daddy looked at me and struggled to whisper, “Call an ambulance.”
All the emergency vehicles arrived and the EMTs came in with the gurney. It was so crowded and there were so many colors with all the fire trucks and flashing lights and uniforms of the emergency response guys. I was scared, but Daddy seemed a little better. He told the paramedics, “I had come in from working hard and was having (that cold thing) and suddenly the top third of my brain got squishy.”
What I remember of the last dream is very short. It was the only dream that was black and white. In this one, I was in the dream, but I also seemed to have the consciousness of an outside observer. I saw the action from inside myself, like you do in real life, but I was having observational thoughts from the outside like when you watch a TV show. In this dream I was in the basement conference space where Boo and I work together sometimes. I kissed him goodbye. It was one of those casual kisses you give somebody when you know you’ll see them again soon. The observing me thought, “Oh, this must mean that we’re (they’re) finally in a relationship. Finally!”
Thinking back on the kiss in the dream, it was very much like our last kiss in real life – a peck goodbye without much real meaning.
It’s interesting when I think about these three dreams together. They’re all about loss and desire and searching. These are certainly the major themes of my internal life right now.
But why can’t dreams come with more answers or CliffsNotes or something. I need a more specific guide! Or maybe I just need dreams to come with heart Band-Aids or something that makes me feel nothing at all. Looks like I picked a bad decade to stop drinking.
Relationships continue to vex me. There never seems to be the right man at the right time with the right desire and the right commitment. And a weird thing has been happening lately where people I have loved in the past are starting to come back around again.
One man reappeared out of the blue after 10 years. He just popped up in the comments of one of these blog posts one day. He sent me a dozen roses. What the hell is that all about?
Then another ex sent me a text a few weeks ago reporting how many months it had been since we talked, since we’d seen each other, and since we’d had sex. What the fuck is THAT all about?
It’s like they’ve completed an orbit of me or something. (Wait! That simile makes me sound really fat!) How about, they’ve come full circle in realizing my incomparable womanly awesomeness!
It’s as if my exes are women who’ve had babies. After a suitable amount of time, they seem to forget the pain and think they want to do it all over again.
But the problem is, they’re exes for a reason. In the meantime, I’ve been chasing my Boo for two years now with varying degrees of success. Lots of face time. Only a tiny bit of SUCKING face time.
Why can’t I seem to get on the same page with a man and us love each other and be available at the same time? (I mean. I did it once before!)
Boo, my “not-boyfriend” as he’s come to be known in Sunday School class, drives me absolutely nuts. But despite that fact, we’ve actually become good friends.
I’ve kept no secrets from Boo about the feelings I have for him. Most men would run screaming from a woman who’s pursued them as mercilessly as I have pursued him for the last two years. He doesn’t. But what he does do is take tiny little baby steps closer to me and then take off running in the opposite direction like a scalded dog.
It’s funny how things have evolved between Boo and me. I used to just want to claw my heart out of my chest when I couldn’t convince him to love me. It hurt me so much. (And know that I still believe completely and delusionally that if I love him hard enough and show him and tell him that enough, he’ll fall in love with me. I am a MO-RON!)
He and I used to have some kind of messy conversation about this stuff every three or four months and then get cold to each other for a while.
Now we have this same messy conversation and then just go on with each other the way it was and nobody seems to be torn up about it. (My prescription for Lamictal helped me a lot with the pain too. Lows are not as low. Highs are not as high.)
Somehow, in the midst of all this complication, we’ve become good friends. Our friendship has become one I cherish. Boo is an awesome person. He makes me laugh my ass off. (He’s totally inappropriate and sarcastic. I love that. It actually turns me on a little…) He pushes me to try harder and do my best. And I love being with him even when he’s in a bad place where he can’t open his mouth and manage to say two words out loud.
So I suppose I just put this all out there to say that, DAMMIT, when you’re a little girl, nobody ever tells you love is going to be so complicated!
Men. Can’t live with them, can’t live without them.
Can’t stop thinking about their muscular forearms, and their big, strong hands, and their mischievousness, and their handsome faces, and their smart-assedness, and those hugs and kisses, and that stubble….
Jesus, be an intercessor and maybe a bottle of Mermaid Spirit Magick Voodoo Houdou Oil for Seduction Sensuality Femininity Acceptance! I can’t do this down here without some help!