Last night I had a dream that disturbed me so much, I woke up in tears. Tears are nothing new to me lately; I'm a veritable water fountain akin to something you might find in an ancient piazza, but driving to my therapist's office today, I was still bothered by it and it rolled around and around in my head and not even the beautiful view of Autumn along the highway could shake it and I mentioned the dream to her when I got there.
In it, for some reason I had to show up at my ex's new home and went with a friend, who I couldn't identify upon awakening but implicitly trusted, and it turned out to not be a home but a spacious apartment. It was quite lovely and modern and the rooms were large and well placed even though the entire space was nearly empty of furniture but what struck me most was the most breathtaking shade of green the walls were painted.
My ex was nowhere to be found and in fact, wasn't even on the premises and as we moved further and further into this place, we came to the end where there was a wall, archway and hallway and a man who it was understood to be the real estate agent, turned and said to me, without missing a step, 'Nice what he can afford now that he doesn't have to waste his money on you.' and I was struck by the utter cruelty of his words and woke up very sad and utterly alone.
My therapist asked me who the man was and I said I didn't know and I didn't think it mattered. He was just a nameless entity who didn't even stop to speak. He just kept walking. And she took a breath and told me that what had happened to my marriage was not my fault and I had to start believing that. I told her I did and she said that I didn't but I would and we would work it out and I pet her little dogs and drank my iced tea and talked for another too short half hour while the sun shone through the windows.
I stopped what I was saying and said, 'This is what I want; I want to heal. I want to forgive. I want to not be triggered by minor things and think it's a devastating rejection. I want a new life and I don't want a big cold spacious apartment but a little cozy warm place where the sun pours in on me and I want a room where the walls are painted that stunning shade of green and I am happy. And then when I'm better, I want a healthy relationship where I am loved as much as I love.' She said, 'Good, because you deserve all of that. You're worth it all. And you can and will have all of it.' She hugged me goodbye and I drove home still haunted by that dream but feeling better all around.
I began to keep a journal of my thoughts, my dreams, my mundane day-to-day stuff. I got one of those sturdy marble composition pads and it sat there on my bed for days waiting for me to crack the binding. But I couldn't begin. I needed to write to someone, not just blindly, so I chose the first person who came to mind and started. I don't know if I will ever show it to him because that's not really the point of the journal but maybe one day I will; I don't know and I'm not going to analyze that just as I'm trying not to analyze us. Although I have come so far, I have a long way to go and I want this person to be part of that journey, no matter what, as long as I'm blessed with him in any capacity. I'm not afraid of risk. Okay, yes I am. I'm terrified, but I still forge ahead because that is my nature.
But I had to confess something and it was as if it began to write itself. Shall I continue because of a childlike hope? Shall I stop because I may become discouraged? Will it be doomed like the letters and poems and fairy tales or is it exempt because of a slight technicality that may be all in my mind but fooling no one least of all him. Why did I stop believing in Santa Claus but not fairy tales? Why did I stop believing in faith but not love? Isn't love faith? All love?
I saw a photograph that wasn't any of my business to see and what I saw in that photo stopped me and made my hands shake. I saw love and hope not for me but was so beautiful that it made me burst into tears and want that love and look for myself, selfishly. I thought of all the times I asked for nothing and gave and gave and gave all my life and sat there in wonder at the eyes of someone I loved more than I thought, and as I wrote down those thoughts, I realized those eyes were the same exact shade of green as the walls in my dream. And I still sit here in wonder that some things, no matter how painful, we may never learn the reason for, but they lead us somewhere to dreams we don't dare not dream. And I'd rather take the chance, the risk, the dare, than be a coward and never know.
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. ~ Hamlet, William Shakespeare