Monday, June 9, 2008

Vivid Dreams, Recurring Themes

Spent some time last night listening to some people talk about their children and babies, and started up a side conversation with a buddy about how I didn't think I was mommy material. So, of course, last night this leaked into my dreams. And so did a few other things I wasn't prepared for.

In the first bit of my dream, I've had a kid with my ex, a little boy, but I haven't been raising him for some reason. And the first time I see him, he's a little man--about 5 or 6? -- in jeans and a dusty, light blue polo, just like the one his dad is wearing. He has wispy blond hair for some reason, though neither me or my ex do. And we're all meeting at the movies, where I discover this kid--my kid--is the sweetest thing, and I've missed this terrible thing all these years, and now I'm dedicated to setting up time to be with him. Because we fit together perfectly.

The next dream is the gender bender, three-way, recurring theme dream. In this type of dream, there is always a love triangle, and I'm always the third wheel, the odd one out, the one looked over, the one who loses. The girl who usually wins the man or the dream is a girl I once knew in grade school--almost always. I don't know why it's always her, though I understand the underlying fears and issues of the dream for the most part.

Anyway, in this version of the dream, I'm male. The girl I once knew has had a child, my child, I think, and we were married once. We definitely aren't anymore, and I'm desperate to setup time to visit with my child--because her family is keeping him from me. At the same time, the dream warps forward and I'm in Dylan McDermott's house. Apparently, this is her finance. Like two men who've loved the same woman, we sort of eye each other, then come to a tentative sort of truce for the sake of the wedding, the woman, and the child involved.

Somehow, I find that their relationship is on rocky ground, but they plan to go through with the wedding anyway. The reception is a mess. Me and my friends are sequestered at a table far distant from the wedding party, and I'm not allowed to see my kid. I raise a ruckus about it, the bride's parents make it difficult for me, and my friends do everything they can to sabotage the reception. Eventually, the bride's parents try to make us pay for the meal. I reply, "My parents paid $11,000 for your daughter's first wedding. I think you owe me a meal."

Chaos ensues. Including a chase through some underground sewer. Don't ask me about that one. Then suddenly we're at the bride's house. All the reception favors have arrived late, they're too big, they're not right. The bride sits wilted in her chair. The fiance is nowhere to be seen. I approach her, crook my finger, and whisper in her ear, "I want to set up time to see my son." She nods, exhausted, as if she's given in. I crook my finger again and whisper, "I wish you all the luck with your new husband." She replies, bitter, "As if I could with the wedding we've had."

And then, I wake up.

0 comments: