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I guess my attempt at dreaming of sunny things paid off. Last night I went to read in bed around 9:30. I woke up at midnight and again at 7, at which point I realized I was still wearing my clothes and my contacts, and there were books and papers littered around me in the bed. So I pushed them all to one side, rolled over, and went back to sleep. And between then and 10, when I finally woke up and crawled blearily out of bed, I had the most beautiful dream.
There was a beach. It was maybe an hour, half an hour, to sunset, and the whole scape was bathed in an amazing, warm, golden light. The ocean lapped peacefully at the edge of the golden sand. A little ways back from the beach was a sheer cliff, carved by erosion and bathed in the same golden light, so it appeared orange-red. It couldn't have been more like paradise, except that the sand was a bit coarse (apparently even in dreams there's no such thing as perfection). He was there, straight out of my modified memories--older, wiser, with just a bit more muscle but the exact same gorgeous dark hair. Somehow there was a reunion scene I barely recall, except for the initial embrace. He put his arms around me and held me tight, and I felt again as though I'd come home. Then we made love on the sand and I don't think I've ever been happier. There's absolutely no way to describe the exact physical and emotional feeling I experienced when he first entered me, and our bodies were joined beneath that golden light....
Afterwards, as the sun began to sink behind the cliff, he held my hand and led me up the beach and beneath an iron awning. Beneath it was a maze of rusty iron sculptures, long fingers of rusted iron sticking out of their bases and poking into the walkways. There was a door at the end of one of the walkways, leading into the cliff, and an elderly woman standing at it beckoning us to hurry and join the others inside, before... before something. It wasn't safe. We hurried and went through the door, which was made out of iron. Inside was a small mudroom made of wood, somehow also bathed in golden light, and a golden wooden door leading into the real building. We went through that as well, and I turned to see if the woman was coming. She was herding a last old man through the iron door and attempting to close it before this giant... thing... caught up with him. It crashed through the iron pokey sculptures and hit the door just as the elderly woman closed and latched it, and we were safe. It was strange; beyond this monster I could still see a golden rock formation, and beyond that, the spot where we'd made love in front of the painfully beautiful ocean. And I was locked into this building, behind all of this iron, still holding his hand but unable to get back to the beach. And now, as I type this, I realize that my brain must have been saying something, because when I woke up I flipped back through my fertility charts for the last year and saw how it was that we stopped having sex a few weeks before we broke up, and that must have been indicative of some higher problem. I have to remember that it wasn't an arbitrary breakup.
I don't particularly miss him today, but I want that beach back. I want that first thrust back. I miss that feeling; I miss knowing that it was all going to be okay; I miss thinking that I'd come home in his arms. There's something he gave me that no one else has, and somehow it got lost along the way, and I want it back.
There was a beach. It was maybe an hour, half an hour, to sunset, and the whole scape was bathed in an amazing, warm, golden light. The ocean lapped peacefully at the edge of the golden sand. A little ways back from the beach was a sheer cliff, carved by erosion and bathed in the same golden light, so it appeared orange-red. It couldn't have been more like paradise, except that the sand was a bit coarse (apparently even in dreams there's no such thing as perfection). He was there, straight out of my modified memories--older, wiser, with just a bit more muscle but the exact same gorgeous dark hair. Somehow there was a reunion scene I barely recall, except for the initial embrace. He put his arms around me and held me tight, and I felt again as though I'd come home. Then we made love on the sand and I don't think I've ever been happier. There's absolutely no way to describe the exact physical and emotional feeling I experienced when he first entered me, and our bodies were joined beneath that golden light....
Afterwards, as the sun began to sink behind the cliff, he held my hand and led me up the beach and beneath an iron awning. Beneath it was a maze of rusty iron sculptures, long fingers of rusted iron sticking out of their bases and poking into the walkways. There was a door at the end of one of the walkways, leading into the cliff, and an elderly woman standing at it beckoning us to hurry and join the others inside, before... before something. It wasn't safe. We hurried and went through the door, which was made out of iron. Inside was a small mudroom made of wood, somehow also bathed in golden light, and a golden wooden door leading into the real building. We went through that as well, and I turned to see if the woman was coming. She was herding a last old man through the iron door and attempting to close it before this giant... thing... caught up with him. It crashed through the iron pokey sculptures and hit the door just as the elderly woman closed and latched it, and we were safe. It was strange; beyond this monster I could still see a golden rock formation, and beyond that, the spot where we'd made love in front of the painfully beautiful ocean. And I was locked into this building, behind all of this iron, still holding his hand but unable to get back to the beach. And now, as I type this, I realize that my brain must have been saying something, because when I woke up I flipped back through my fertility charts for the last year and saw how it was that we stopped having sex a few weeks before we broke up, and that must have been indicative of some higher problem. I have to remember that it wasn't an arbitrary breakup.
I don't particularly miss him today, but I want that beach back. I want that first thrust back. I miss that feeling; I miss knowing that it was all going to be okay; I miss thinking that I'd come home in his arms. There's something he gave me that no one else has, and somehow it got lost along the way, and I want it back.
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re: The last two sentences in this entry
Date: 2006-12-11 10:44 pm (UTC)From:I also know what waking up from those kind of dreams does to you. I actually had a dream that left me sort of wistful last night as well (I posted about it in my own LJ) and it didn't even involve my ex. Le sigh. I don't get why everyone has to either rip themselves apart or be ripped apart from their first love.
-E
Re: The last two sentences in this entry
Date: 2006-12-12 01:44 am (UTC)From:Anyway. I know what you mean about the post-first-love destruction. He wasn't really my first love, but he was definitely the most serious. I think I'm the one doing the destroying, though.... At least in your case you can blame someone else. :-P
Hey, we need to hang out over break! I get back on the 19th and leave on the 3rd.
Re: The last two sentences in this entry
Date: 2006-12-12 02:20 am (UTC)From:Re: The last two sentences in this entry
Date: 2006-12-12 02:52 am (UTC)From:Re: The last two sentences in this entry
Date: 2006-12-12 04:46 am (UTC)From:Re: The last two sentences in this entry
Date: 2006-12-12 04:52 am (UTC)From:I may or may not have finished my paper by the time I get home. It's due on the 22nd, so if I haven't finished it I probably won't be doing a lot of social calling. But afterwards, party on!
Re: The last two sentences in this entry
Date: 2006-12-13 08:29 am (UTC)From:Re: The last two sentences in this entry
Date: 2006-12-12 05:22 am (UTC)From:*pleased*
I would definitely like to hang with you over break. If you have any ideas of what you would like to do, let me know. I'm down for anything. Museums, partying, movies, walking around aimlessly...it is all good with me. :)
Just give me some ideas of what you would be down for.
Also:
yeah...I know he wasn't your *first* love TECHNICALLY. Grrrr. I KNEW you would say that too. I also knew you would know what I meant. Lol.
Anyway...I dunno. Everyone bears their share of the blame in those nasty breakup situations.
I don't sweat the breakup stuff anymore. After Celis I just have been feeling sort of spirtually homeless, though. I feel out of place in the world and sometimes I really feel like I lack purpose or understanding what purpose I should move towards on a philosophical level. That has really been upsetting me for the last 9 months or so. I think the whole, "holy shit I'm about to really enter the 'real world'" thing is really starting to hit me. I'm at the point where I'm really going to have to make the big leap and committ to a career and all of that and I'm definitely feeling some anxiety there. I can definitely say that my sort of emotional/mental tail spin I feel I'm in was *initiated* by my breakup...but it wasn't *caused* by it. I have hope though. Sometimes that seems to be all you can really hope for.
anyway...
get back to me and let me know what K-Rizzles (yes...plural...lol) like to do with old friends over X-mas break. ;)
-E
(btw...I get back on the 15th and leave on the 3rd as well. I'm leaving early so I can take a mini-trip to Atlanta for a couple of days)