“You were in a dream I had last night“ I told The Voice.
“What kind of dream?”
“Just you were there and I was glad to see you sorta thing,” I replied.
“Oh! I just remembered more of it. You were happy to see me, too.”
“Hope so. It was your dream.”
You know those dreams that are only *kind of* still with you when you wake up? You have a vague idea that something happened and people were there but a tangible memory doesn’t materialize until you are debating between Braeburn or MacIntosh apples in the produce aisle of the supermarket.
I knew that he had been in my dream, I remembered seeing him and being glad for it. Not in an “Ohmygod, I haven’t seen you in ages!!” kind of way but a “Oh, good. Of course, he is here. Why wouldn’t he be?” kind of way. I remember that I walked over and wrapped my arms around his waist and stood with my cheek to his chest as he wrapped his arms around my waist. Together we breathed. It was neither excited nor unexcited nor apathetic nor elated. It just felt GOOD.
What came to me later, in that moment in the produce aisle was…
…as he stood with his arms wrapped around my waist, he kissed the top of my head and said, “I love you” just as naturally as the moment was. I looked up, smiled, knowing in my dream-self it was the first time he had said that to me before, and thought “Well, of course” and said, “I love you, too” just as naturally as he. Then I turned and joined the room full of people.
Of course, I couldn’t tell him this bit of the dream because I like The Voice and I don’t really want him to disappear. So I said he was “happy” to see me. A truth.
I do not suspect this dream suggests that I love him or that he loves me. I don’t think that dreams are so literal. But my waking-self is struck by the beauty and naturalness of our relationship and declaration of love. It is truly what I would hope for in a waking-relationship.
In my past relationships there has been build-up before “dropping the L-bomb.” How long after you think it do you say it? When is the right time, setting, mood in which to say it for the first time? Side note: The first time I said it to Ryan I said, “Look, I’m going to mumble this in my sleep so I might as well tell you on purpose that I think I’m falling in love with you.” Then I rolled over and was out like lightning but only vaguely recalled the conversation in the morning. I wouldn’t repeat the sentiment for a week or so and got creeped out whenever he said it to me. *Creeped out* was just I thought, “He’s a dude. Why does he keep saying that to me? Aren’t they suppose to be tighter lipped about feelings than us?” (I know, I’m sexist. It’s awful)
My father always says that you vote with your feet. In relationship with people when we make time to be with them and see them and we allow ourselves to comfort them when they are sad and support them when they are struggling and happy with them when they are happy with themselves, then the love is obvious whether spoken or not. The manipulation of the “right mood” to declare oneself is disingenuine, isn’t it? That is not to say we should not say it when we feel it, just that that moment then becomes the right time in which to say “I love you”.
But wait there is more…
Last night, I had another love dream. Of the fragmented pieces that do not make sense…
I was lost in a city and then I was with a crowd in the lunch room of my highschool which was cracking apart and opening blackholes while part of it was submerged in water. Chaos ensued around me. I was there with my lover, a boy I knew from highschool and quite frankly couldn’t stand. He knew that we were either going to die or at least were facing those life moments when you go to the people you love the most and make sure they know how much just in case this is your last chance. He was pleading with me, PLEADING, to get me to tell him that I loved him. He was angry and frustrated and heart-broken and distraught but I would not say the words.
I could feel that I had love for him, a very strong story-book love, but I refused to say the words. It wasn’t like those dreams when you try to speak and can’t, I chose not to say it. When I woke up I was sad for my dreamself’s inability to comfort her lover (oddly, not at her inability to say “I love you”) and wondered what must it mean that I have now had two dreams (that I remember) around the theme of love in as many weeks.
I loved Ryan very much. I loved him because he loved me in exactly the way I always knew I should be loved when I, someday, was lucky enough to be the recipient of it. I, also, loved him because of how wonderful loving him felt. So I don’t doubt love is real or wonder if it was all just a big hoax to see me vulnerable just because he fell out of love with me. Nor do I think saying no to love that is staring you in the face is the right answer. My thoughts lately lean more (negatively) around the labels of relationship. I don’t think declaring someone as a boyfriend makes them any more *mine* than before “the talk” clarifies. I don’t believe that marriage adds anything to a relationship that did not exist already. Labels don’t make your partner all of a sudden be the person you walk through life with hand-in-hand neither does it create monogomy.. The continued choice of “today I choose you” is what does that.
Anywho…that’s just where my thoughts are these days which makes the nighttime activities of my subconscious…”Curiouser and curiouser.”