My dreams are being given a run for their money

 

I dreamed of Sharon last night. It shouldn't be that rare or odd of an occurrence, but sometimes it is, due to the timing of it all. 

I dreamed she was present on my little couch downstairs, sitting upright and looking not at all disabled. I had to do one of those double takes and realize that it was her and she looked healthy and like her previous self. 

My mind kicked in and said, "Hey, I think I see an opportunity here. All those hugs I should have given you, when you were here, bedridden, that I withheld for one reason or another--well, here you are and here I am!" 

I descended upon her with hugs and kisses and much tenderness, feeling around and noticing that she was certainly intact and in fine condition. I got that naughty vibe from her, like she was still her good old sexual self, ready to take me on another ride and try to make me forget about any new loves. Or at least make sure that I never forget her, because she gave me such wonderful lessons in that department.

I woke up, as usual, before, you know, anything happened. But it was a nice feeling, like as much moving on as I might be doing in my life right now, that she hasn't forgotten me or us and wants to make sure that I always remember her. 

It's true I have a new love, but I'm not required to leave behind someone who gave so much to form who I am. I'll always carry that spirit within me, and I won't trample on the memories just because new ones are being created. Everything is preserved perfectly in its place, and sometimes I guess that includes my dream world.

My real life world is seeming like a dream these days. My intense connection with Lesa is something I never foresaw, but it has been the undercurrent of my life this past few months. It is the reason this blog has fallen by the wayside and become a simple notebook for dream recollections. 

I am focusing my creative energies on crafting the perfect love letters and devoting my brain activity to the perilous path of being in love. I only have so much jam in the jar, and I'm busy spreading it on both sides of the toast with Lesa, leaving very little left over to blog about the rest of my life. 

Which is exactly what? I dunno, she seems to be my all consuming focus right now. But I feel it is making me a more loving person in general, as love tends to soften the rough edges and make folks nicer.

I'm still working on universal application, however, and I can't say I'm Jesus-like just yet. I still get petty and have irks and things that get to me. But overall, I'm making progress. And I think I can say, I owe it to the loves in my life. All of them. 

But right now, owing to a renewed and particularly heartfelt communication from Lesa, I'd have to give her the credit for my recent turn towards the light. I still don't know how Sharon feels or would feel about her. I'd like to think we could all share in the love, that Sharon had something to do with engineering my recent re-connection and that she approves. But my spidey senses tell me that women don't always feel so cozy with other women getting a hold of their man.

So, if this blog and it's pages are absent too much mention of Lesa, it is because I'm writing volumes to her in letters and messages. I'm pretty sure she knows how I feel about her. This blog gets the leftovers, the random fill-ins and notes to self that occasionally need to be jotted down. Sorry, dear readers, you'll just have to wait for the book.