Saturday, March 07, 2009

I know how this dream ends

I dreamt of you last night. It's funny. I hardly, if ever, dreamt of you when we were together. But now that you're out of my life, there you were. Maybe my subconscious was just trying to fill the void.

In the dream, I drove six hours to see you. As I approached your house, I could see you were having a big party. The doors were open and cars were parked up and down the street. I decided I would just pass by, that it would be better that way. It was enough just to have been there, to see that you were doing OK.

But then I found myself sitting in the floor against your bedroom wall. I was alone. The party was going on in another part of the house. There was a letter lying on your bed. I thought, hoped, that you were writing it to me. That maybe it would clear up some of my questions. Questions I'd had since you told me you were going away for the weekend and that we'd talk when you got back, but we had never talked.

I picked it up and started to read, then felt guilty for doing so. There must be a reason you never sent it. Maybe you weren't ready for me to see it, or maybe it wasn't meant for me at all. Still, I read. It appeared to be unfinished and the name of the intended recipient was missing or rubbed out.

Then you were there. You seemed sympathetic towards me, but unwavering. We spoke, though I don't remember what was said. It was over. Your feelings had changed and nothing I could do would ever change them back.

As I started to leave, others were there. I looked at the faces of the people I passed, wondering if these were the "friends" you so often spoke of, and wondering which of them had taken my place in your heart.

One of the guys, a short fellow, said something about how pathetic it was that I had driven all that way for nothing. I grabbed him and slammed him against the wall a couple of times. He didn't say anything else.

The last thing I remember, I was driving, ever conscious of the fact that I was getting farther and farther from you...

So often, dreams provide a welcome escape from reality. An alternate world where love is requited and fantasies come true. How cruel it seemed then that even in my dreams, I couldn't make us work. To dream something I never wanted. To dream a dream that had already come true.

"She's out of my life. She's out of my life. And I don't know whether to laugh or cry. I don't know whether to live or die. And it cuts like a knife..."


  1. Well written. There's a lot of symbolism here! I've had too many of those kind of dreams where the past revisits. Sometimes they're sweet, often they're bitter, like your dream

  2. Painful dreams irritate me a lot. Dreams are usually where you get to live your life the way you want it; it's sad when you don't get that. Interesting that you managed to read the letter - I've found I can sometimes read in dreams but I've heard it said that you can't.

  3. Like with most of your past-relationships-revisited posts, I'm left feeling alone and empty inside. Like something (someone really) is missing in my life.

    There are some amazing lines in this post, Bone. You outdid yourself.

    P.S. I love the "analyze this" tag.

  4. This is a lovely post. The six hour drive is an excellent way to give us a glimpse of the time spent, in vain, on the relationship. But, are most dreams pleasant fantasies? If most of yours are, then I think you're lucky. It seems to me that most images that visit us in the night are our personal horror films.

    Sweeter dreams, Bone:)

  5. This was so well written; I think many of us have been there either in our dreams or wide awake. I'm not sure which is worse. By the time I was done reading it left a lump in my throat.

  6. So often, dreams provide a welcome escape from reality. An alternate world where love is requited and fantasies come true. How cruel it seemed then that even in my dreams, I couldn't make us work. To dream something I never wanted. To dream a dream that had already come true.

    But dreams provide a valve and dreams help us process events--yesterdays and ten years ago.

    I don't know if this was reality or fiction but it's beautiful

  7. It really sucks when someone decides that life is better without you in it.

  8. I want to comment, but I can't come up with any suitable words, so you'll just have to imagine my sad, sympathetic face...

  9. my heart breaks along with u.
    (love the way you bring songs back to me by adding their lyrics to your posts)
    Always remember bone... there is another love just around the corner.
    (it's sunday night.. Monday will be here soon!)

  10. Bother. I've been trying to remember something all day, and every time I remembered it I got distracted and it fled. You just reminded me that what I was trying to remember was part of a dream, but that's all I can remember at the moment. No wonder it's been so elusive.

  11. Ouch. :(
    As many have said, my friend, well written.
    I came away from this post feeling empty along side you - your words are powerful tools.
    I'm sorry that you had to feel these feelings again.
    Being near to someone that you've lost, even just in your mind, can be painful.

  12. Sage - Thanks. Yeah, seems like there was a lot of symbolism. I just wish I knew what it symbolized.

    J Adamthwaite - Hmm, that is interesting. I know I looked at the letter. I remember words on the page. But when I woke up, I couldn't remember anything it said.

    TC - Thank you. Most of it was just describing a dream as well as I could remember. I wanted to get it down before I forgot.

    Actonbell - Thanks. I don't know if most are. I just can't remember a dream that so literally and closely mirrored my real life frustrations and failures.

    PennyCandy - Thank you. I think wide awake is worse. Normally I can count on sleep to provide a brief respite. Just not this time.

    Pia - I think that definitely applies here. This was probably me getting some of this out and letting some of it go. And it also allowed me to write about it, which is never a bad thing, in my opinion.

    Oh, it was real. All too real.

    Murf - You can say that again. (Don't really say it again. But I agree.)

    R8chel - That's most understandable. I feel like that lots, especially when reading a serious post. I'll do my best to imagine your face :)

    Lucy - Thanks, Lucy. I'm glad you enjoy the lyrics :) And actually, Sunday wasn't that bad this week. Must be the longer days or something.

    Capn John - Ah, dreams can be elusive. I couldn't have said it better myself.

    Blondie - Thank you, dear. Actually, it wasn't all bad. It was good to see her again, if only in my dreams.

  13. I hate these types of have written a beautiful post. I felt the emptiness of unanswered questions and things unresolved.

    It seems the older I get, the more my dreams are based on sad life realities. I miss the joyful dreams when I was a kid! Like being able to fly...those were the best. Or finding handful after handful of coins on the ground, and scooping them up in wonder as I walked to a destination. Weird, huh? I had that dream all the time.

    Thanks for a wonderful post, Bone...without fail, I read your words here and leave feeling content. :~)

  14. This the sort of dream that I'd rather not remember and that leaves me feeling a little hungover the next day as I try to sort through it. It's easier to read about yours than remember mine....

  15. I just caught the tag "relationship Bone." It's catchy. Me like

  16. This is beautifully written. Painful, but beautifully written.

  17. the tags are super.

    this stopped me in my tracks today. seriously. it's all I can think about for the last hour. incredibly incredible.

  18. That was beautifully written Bone. I don't dream that often,

    I'd never be able to write - of a dream that meant to me things that this dream meant to you - in this way.

  19. Fledgling Poet - Thank you. I wonder if our dreams become less fanciful as we go? Now that you mention it, I haven't had a dream where I could fly in a long time.

    Ally - It has sure affected me, all week.

    Pia - Thanks. I just wish tags had been around on Blogger from the start.

    Mama Zen - Thank you.

    Cami - Thanks much for the very kind words.

    Cooper - Thank you. Oddly enough, it was a situation I had been unable to write about. The dream allowed me to do that.

  20. It's only happened to me once or twice that I could read the words (but only a few) and that I could remember what they said - most of the time, I can read the letter and I don't remember what it said, or I when I remember back to the letter, I realise it was actually nonsense but I also remember what it was supposed to have said. Of course, the more you think about these things, the less you can be certain whether you're right or not!

  21. why didnt you turn around and go back? why did you let her go? I wonder.