November 23, 2003

To Dream a Little Dream of You

The doorbell rings, and I pad down the stairs, my bare feet cold against the wooden floor. My hair is rough around my shoulders, and as I look outside at the snowy evening, I wonder who could be calling. I sink my shoulders inside myself in a squaring event to ward off the travelling salemen.

And when I swing the door open, I am greeted by two things. The first is a gust of cold winter wind which snakes its way around my ankles and inside the buttonholes of my pajamas. The second is shock, as I see that it is him. He is here. He turns to me, his eyes meeting mine, imploring and questioning, and in one second he has flown up the stairs, his mouth on mine and his hand in my hair.

Somehow we stagger inside, my shock at him on my doorstep absolved into a heady response. He is here, in the flesh, holding me and kissing me as though he never left. His skin is warm, and I feel my hands guiding their way with a mind of their own. He captures them and holds them, and my fingers place all of their trust inside of that moment.

We run up the stairs hand in hand, clothing being left with abandon as we go. Within seconds we are in the bedroom, on the bed, finding our way through the familiar hills and valleys that we once knew without need of navigation. His hands grab fistfuls of my hair, and his fingers dig deeply into my back, edging the surface and causing blood to rise.

The words we say are not original, they have been said before and will be said again. But we speak them in our language, in the terms that we know and the meanings that we hold value in. He whispers that he loves me. That he cannot live without me. That I am the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. That he wants to have children with me.

I whisper back that I love him. That I wish we could be married. This draws us apart again for a split-second-it is not what he wants, I should not have said that. But he softly takes his body and my body and instead proves what we already knew-that all of this, every moment and every movement, all of it was inevitable.

And once the moment is over, he doesn't whisper that he was just passing through running an errand. He doesn't look sad or admonishing. Instead, he gets up and lights a fire in the fireplace by the bed. He goes downstairs and turns off the lights. He comes back upstairs, naked, and crawls into bed with me, lacing his fingers through mine and kissing the bridge of my nose, the arch of my jaw, the hollow under my ear.

In my dream he then lays down with me, curling his body around me and holding me close, sniffing the back of my neck. In my dream I allow my body to relax against the warmth of a man for the first time in a long time and I finally sleep, a dreamless sleep that wakes me up in the morning with images of lilac and blue painting the inside of my eyelids. In my dream, he stays that night, and the next, and the next.

In my dream, he never lets me go.

And in my reality, I am alone and missing him madly. I go to bed alone, save for the suitcase that I carry around our memories in. And when the sounds go bump in the night, I wrap my arms around that case, and try to breathe his comfort in.

For that is all I have.


Posted by Everydaystranger at November 23, 2003 10:04 PM | TrackBack

My wife is Kitty Says. I imagine that my wife has had this dream as well. Soon, I'll be home to fullfil her dream. I hope He, whether he's the orignal or not, comes home, too.

Posted by: archi-sapper at November 26, 2003 02:23 PM

This is beautifully written, Helen. Your words reach right into my heart.

That kind of emotional longing is seductive and despairing and maybe even dangerous too, if it makes you stand still inside yourself while other people move on around you. At times like this I'm very glad you're strong and have a support network and weren't afraid to explore therapy. Those things will keep balancing you, especially when you're going through a sucky time like this.

Posted by: Sedalina at November 24, 2003 10:44 AM

My sister had this dream boyfriend, she lived with him for about 8 months. He looked like Keanu Reeves, was extremely bright (getting the same grad degree she had started)loved to cook and travel, and extremely passionate. Perfect in all ways except emotionally. Predictably, they broke up. But my sister went to psychics for years to see if they would get back together. Between boyfriends, she would return to him, and it would be wonderful for about a week.

He was never there for her when she needed him. If she was in emotional pain, he disappeared like a damn cheshire cat and made her feel like it was her fault. He never put her first and was, underneath it all, one of the most selfish human beings on the planet, but still likeable! Everything worked for the guy, he never had negative repercussions from any of his decisions. He was like an oasis that turns into a mirage when you approach.

Sometimes when you write about Mr. Y I see alot of my sister in your yearning. She is now happily married to a great guy and they have the cutest little boy I've ever seen. But sometimes she still questions if she should have held out, waited until he came back again. (Crazy!! I'm telling you, crazy!!)

Don't waste too much time on him unless whatever didn't work the first time has been fixed. Use him for fantasy material, but don't get sucked back into emotional addiction or you'll spend years in that spiral. Just some cautionary words from someone who had to listen and analyze every feature and word of another Mr. Y for years before the girl finally got it. He wasn't for her, and that was a GOOD, LUCKY thing! Hope it works out well for you either way.

Posted by: Oda Mae at November 24, 2003 07:21 AM

Ah, Helen.

On the one hand, I'm so with you in disappearing into that dream; and psychology says when you're down or stressed to go to a place or time which is positive to you! heh.

On the other hand, I have to agree with Oda Mae. It's not just addictions such as alcohol, but also emotional addiction to what your memory has built up, and I'm sure you know how badly that can affect your relationship with PU.

I say "to what your memory has built up" because nothing is ever as we remember it. You're remembering the OH WOW parts, when you were so physically, emotionally,psychically overwhelmed by those wonderful, incredible feelings. I think you do acknowledge that there were also negatives, but they're tucked away behind the glittery gauze.

Or, I may be talking out my ass...

Get yer books done, girl! I wanna read them!

Posted by: jean at November 24, 2003 01:05 AM

for a brief moment i read this as what actually happened, i blew by (or chose to ignore) the "dream" in the title. and i was so happy for you. you need something pure and good and loving in your life right now. while you hang with what you've got i hope you can treat yourself well and keep workin on those books! :-)

Posted by: kat at November 24, 2003 12:24 AM

Beth-this one was for Mr. Y, my ghost of my past, the type of ghost that there is no exorcision for. Unless there are some wild changes in the present, I get to just keep dreaming about him.

Joey-thanks for the encouragement. I kinda' needed it:)

And Oda Mae-actually, I am worried about it too. I totally agree with you that depression eggs on addiction. I have had problems with with alcohol when Kim and I split up. So I basically can't prove you wrong, and instead I worry too...

Posted by: Helen at November 23, 2003 11:35 PM

I long for the day when I will find someone who feels about me the way you feel about the man in your dream (Y, I presume).

You have a truly amazing talent with words. That, coupled with your passion and your ability to identify your feelings, makes for a wonderful read.

You continue to amaze me with each new post.

Posted by: Joey at November 23, 2003 10:42 PM

Be very careful. You might be creating a life preserver that you don't need, or it doesn't exist. I worry about you, my friend. Addiction comes back during times of depression. Tell me more and prove me wrong and I'll be happy for you.

Posted by: Oda Mae at November 23, 2003 10:35 PM

Oh, I know exactly how you feel, really, only eventually, I did get to marry the man I could never marry. Eventually, he did marry me - it took a very long time - nearly 6 years - but it did happen, and we are happy, very happy together now.
Perhaps I should not give you such hope, but if he is truly worth all your love and devotion, I would think that someday, somehow, you can be together.

Posted by: Beth Donovan at November 23, 2003 10:14 PM
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