"But my dreams... they aren't as empty

 

 ...as my conscience seems to be.
I have hours, only lonely.
My love is vengeance, that's never free."
 
 

 

I really didn't ask to have a dream fixation on some girl from high school. And her in particular. She wouldn't have been an idea generated in my own thinking. 

Yet, despite my sucky waking life reality and the real probability that I ruined even the minimal friendship that we did have by attempting to communicate with her about these dreams, here I still am, dreaming about this same girl. I'd tell her to go away and stop bothering me, but I don't feel that way in the dream. It's just waking up to my reality that makes me wish I didn't get these stupid feelings, which I have no business entertaining.

I dreamed we were in some early awkward stage of dating, like the walking home from school together or maybe touching hands innocently phase. The "I think she likes me, what do I do" place of bursting, anxious hope. I was with her in a movie theater again, and there was this feeling. We're somehow here together, I should touch her hand. What will she do? I did it, and it was OK, she didn't mind.

Later we were, I believe, in a beach town, Santa Monica, maybe. I was walking with her and talking. At first she was walking behind me, so I turned around and waited a minute while she caught up. I said something casual to her and put my arm around her. 

"You are shorter than I imagined," I bluntly observed. She responded by growing a whole two feet. 

"Oh, that's more like it!" I told her as we continued walking to a Denny's.

I only had ten dollars, and I told her so. We waited for service in a cozy but semi-chaotic family environment. Orders were not getting filled right, but we just waited there. It was going to be OK, despite the poor service and the fact that I only had ten dollars.

---

When I go to sleep at night, it isn't this high school crush that I set an intention for. At least not since I made such a fool of myself. I still put on Sharon's wedding ring and my wedding ring, but lately have added a gold sun pendant on a chain and her engagement ring to me on a chain. I also wear her grandmother's ring, a gold band with a pearl attached, which Sharon had modified by Don the Jeweler, the guy who sold me Sharon's wedding ring set. Kind of an elaborate ritual, but it's not without it some kind of logic.

I was told by a Facebook random spiritual person that Sharon was showing her something to do with her hands, like she was pointing out a ring on her finger. I was very skeptical and had a hard time accepting anything these people were telling me about her being OK on the other side. I am less skeptical these days, but just as confused. So, when I do these little nightly rituals, it is more of a desperate hope on my part. A desire to connect with her in my dreams.

I did briefly dream of her a few nights ago. She was in bed, as before, with her illness. And I was my old self, angry with some kind of demand I felt was being put on me by her. But I caught myself and said, "No, I'm not going to make this mistake. I know better." And I stopped my angry reaction and went over to give her a hug. I wish I would have done that more often in my time with her. I had so many opportunities.

Lately, I have been facing some thoughts which are more realistic, and not quite how I want my idealized version of Sharon to be memorialized in my story. Unfortunately, reality is what it is. She had other loves, likes and feelings that went out to other men in her life who were not me. I know we were married, and once her illness became severe she couldn't do much about these thoughts. But they existed, captured in the random email as a continuous thread clear up til 2015. It showed me that she was still very much alive inside, and very human, despite what her disease was doing to her.

I also had my own unseen thread of longing after past love. Nothing ever came of it, though it also exists in a string of correspondence with someone I knew just before I met Sharon. Nothing as suggestive as these dumb dreams, but an emotional connection, nonetheless. God, being a human is a messy business. I don't suppose there is much hope for anyone of being pure, if we are honest with ourselves. I try not to judge myself too harshly, but I tend to get easily hurt and judge others quite quickly.

Maybe the trick is to be honest with yourself, at least. Lie to 99.9 percent of the world, but at least tell yourself what you know to be true. And yes, this means I am not being completely transparent on this blog. I simply can't open certain doorways to passages in my brain for public viewing. At least not at the moment. Gotta leave some room for mystery. What would life be without plot twists and surprise endings?