Thursday, November 01, 2007
Compelled to Share a Dream
I haven't posted in months. I haven't felt a need. My father still waits. Nothing much has changed. There are simply no updates to make. Yet, I find myself now compelled to post, to share this dream I had last night, this dream I can't get out of my head, a dream which something tells me I must share.
I should preface this by saying that it is very rare that I remember a dream at all, let alone in such vivid detail. The rare exception to this rule usually comes about as a result of a very lucid dream where I'm actually in control of events, or as a result of waking up shocked from a nightmare. In both cases, the dream quickly fades. This it would seem is the exception to the exception. It was no nightmare, and I certainly wasn't in control, and while I've been awake for over an hour now, the images and events aren't fading away in my mind. I can recall it in its entirety, play it back in my head in vivid detail. This dream is different.
Where to begin...
It starts with me hovering over an Island. It's not that I fly, rather I'm able to perceive with a clarity of vision from above. I notice my dot on the surface below. It's a lonely Island, I am its sole inhabitant. I am acutely aware of its vastness and feel very deeply the emptiness there. My days are spent in solitude and with a knowledge that I am broken.
Suddenly, my world is turned on end. I'm joined on this Island by another, a featureless women whom I'm instantly drawn to. She is hurting. I can sense in her a pain so deep that its depths can not be contained within just the core of our planet. It ranges to the true depths, plunging past the surface of the deep spoken of in scripture, into the murky cold depths below. Somehow I know this. She, too, is broken.
Initially, it is as if we two were made for each other, two halves of a broken hole, there is a sense that together we can reform into our essence. Our time is spent together, laughing, running, embracing, comforting one another, and largely just enjoying the presence of the other in still contented silence. We are healing. I can sense this, though I know not if she is also aware. What we do know is that we no longer share feelings of incredible loneliness, nor do we have the sensations of deep, almost surreal pain. We are becoming whole. We discuss this and agree, we were meant to find one another. The mistake I make now is what sets me up for failure. I confuse having been meant to find one another with being meant to be together. I propose, and am accepted. It's a forgone conclusion, for we are the only two.
Then... Enter a third party onto our fair little Island. While I was able to hover my consciousness above the Island, this man could actually fly. At first I believe he is hope for salvation, come to carry us off the Island to a place of civilization, of comfort, and company. But it becomes clear rather quickly he has no interest in me and is content to let me stay on my Island. Her, however, is another story. She becomes infatuated, mesmerized by this new man. While I'm continually assured that my place in her heart is forever, I can feel her drifting away. One day it just happens. She is gone. I see her in his arms as they fly off together toward the horizon. And there I am, again alone on my Island. This time, however, I am broken anew. My loneliness is now of one once loved and lost. My emptiness is now as one one whole and now shattered. Not a half, but a pile of shards seemly impossible to glue back together. As deep as my pain was before, it is now doubled. For I did not go through this experience unchanged. Rather, all of her pain, all her feelings from before our initial encounter. They were now mine. My burden to carry forever more. And the strange part is, in all this I was contented. I shed not a tear, simply resumed my hovered consciousness above my little Island, detached from it all.