Warning long post alert.
I had a strange, wonderful dream last night, a sweet sweet dream. It began before bed though or at least I think it did. Who really knows how dreams work? I think it began as early as last weekend. I had begun writing deep things, things I can't write here, things about the history of J and me. And this is where it gets long with all this background info. Feel free to jump ahead. I have been experiencing deep sadness, loss, anger, regret, nostalgia--grief. Yet I have not been able to cry when I am experiencing this sadness nor have I been able to comfort myself in a healthy way. So the writing is therapy.
In addition to the writing I had friends over last weekend. The two people who had introduced me to J. It was good to see them. I have known them many years and our connection has faded and rekindled time and again as our lives change. This time it felt like we were close again without much effort, like we were on the same page. But having them over to my place reminded me of the first time J and I met at their place. Maybe it was the weather, the writing I had been doing or both. Regardless I experienced a deep sadness that welled up and lingered. It has lingered all week.
Last night was especially bad. I felt like crying, like drinking myself into oblivion, like hibernating for the winter and shutting myself off from the world. Instead I wrote and I felt better afterward. Then I watched the second half of
Angels in America , a play I had read in college but never seen.
Before bed I had some tea, I took a hot bath, I ate cheese. I put an extra blanket on the bed. After several hours staring at the ceiling like a foreigner in my own house I fell asleep.
I dreamed I was in a large house built into the earth (into a hill) with windows from floor to ceiling. It was dark outside. There were lots of people in the house like there was a house party or slumber party. They were spread out on couches, beds and floors. A fire place roared. I kept wandering from room to room a single person in a house full of couples or people who knew where their place was. A nice man who looked like Jude Law (go figure) took me by the elbow. He led me to a giant couch where a giant man was sitting with a giant fur blanket covering him. My friend asked the man how he could keep the entire blanket to himself when I so clearly needed comfort. He yanked the blanket away. He wrapped it around me and led me to another part of the house.
He opened a tall cupboard and showed me some strange tools. He began to explain them to me and it took me a while to comprehend why he was telling me about them. They were tools to help him assemble his prosthetic limb. He then pointed to my legs and said he would help me learn how to take care of my prosthetics. I realized I had lost my legs completely. I had prosthetics attached just below my hips.
A scale was nearby and I weighed myself. It said I was 75lbs. I laughed and said, "I thought I was shrinking to nothing but it's because I have no legs. I didn't know it was because I had no legs!" and I felt tremendous relief to realize there was a reason why I weighed so little. He kissed me on top of my head and carried me to bed. He covered me with the fur blanket which was almost as big as the room, soft as feathers but very heavy. I slept and slept. When I woke up he was beside me. We kissed for a long time. Both of us wanted to have sex but I was too self conscious about my missing limbs. He said that self consciousness would pass with time and not to worry about it. He held me really tight.
I told him he reminded me of someone and he told me he was a friend of a friend of J and that he had never met J but he thought he had met J's friend by some kind of destiny and that J's friend and I had a spirit he would know anywhere and that he loved me. I felt tremendous joy and peace at hearing this. The shock of having no legs gave way to bravery. Someone knew my spirit. Someone knew me and my flaws and loved me. I felt so peaceful and content that I slept some more.
I woke up and wrote down everything I could remember. It was such a sweet dream. I think the man in the dream was my version of an angel since I had just watched
Angels in America. I don't know what any of it means if anything. All I know is that I hope I dream it again.
