Dreams

I am putting off writing the next part in the February 16, 2011 story. It is more painful to recall than I thought it would be. I'll get to it this weekend, maybe.

In the meantime, I thought I'd share some of the crazy dreams I've had lately. It seems that the recent drama mixed with Valentine's Day and too much T.V. really stirred up my imagination.

First, I had a dream that I went on a date with President Obama. That's weird, right? Even in my dream I was wondering how I ended up on a date with the President. I think I said something to him once, like, "Gosh, you're kinda old for me . . . and aren't you married?" It didn't phase me at all that he was the leader of our nation, but then I've always aimed high (which is how I ended up with an unfaithful, sex addicted teacher in rural farm country).

A few days later, I had a very convoluted dream that I was both Anna and Ethel from PBS's Downton Abbey. If you haven't watched this show, go check it out. A quick explanation: Anna marries a man who is accused of murdering his ex-wife and she stands by him through the trial. Ethel gets knocked-up by a soldier and abandoned with the baby (this is the early 1900s when no one would give a job to an unmarried mother). I don't think it takes much imagination to see why I identify with these characters. I take more to Ethel (in all her self-righteous stupidity) than I do to the purely devoted Anna, mostly because I've been in Anna's shoes and got burned. I want to scream at her, "HE DID IT! HE KILLED HER! RUN AWAY!"

Lastly - the craziest one of all - I dreamed that I was spending time with a man who was devoted and loving. He put his arm around me so naturally and adoringly. He was relaxed and simple in his manners. He was just content to be with me, without the need for a sexual goal. Just a good man, imagine that.

The dreams themselves can be shrugged off and forgotten, but the greater meaning comes from the theme: relationships and dating. For the first time since all this started, I'm thinking about my relationship with my husband in the past tense. I'm identifying with women who have been separated or abandoned by their mates. My imagination is playing with scenarios of how to start a new romance. Up until now, I haven't thought about leaving or divorce or anything along those lines. It's strange to have my self-conscious working ahead of me. Is there really a part of me that is ready to move on already? If there is, then it is the minority because most of me feels a little nauseous at the thought of any kind of romance (and downright opposed to anything sexual). But then, I also feel like these dreams are a signal of where I might be heading . . . Strange.

Or maybe it was just the Valentine's Day subliminal messages that infected my colorful dreamscape.