Today I am thankful for the insight of dreams.
I'll start by sharing the backstory.
I have a zombie love.
It's more than 30 years old.
It should be dead.
In reality, it died in May of 1987.
It came back, over and over through the years.....
like the undead.
The heartbreak has been a constant companion throughout my adult life.
It's a part of who I am.
When I see him, which happens from time to time, I feel the same ache.
When people ask about him, which happens more often that I'd like, it brings back the loss.
In fact, once while visiting the city in which we grew up, I had a psychiatrist buddy of mine remark that I have aura of a woman who lost her best friend.
I reek of personal loss.
I have accepted it.
It's part of my story
I really wouldn't know what to do if I felt another way.
It's a part of me.
It has made me the person that I am today.
It has also made me far too cautious of relationships with the opposite sex.
*******
We have met a few times over the years. The first ten years or so, I did everything in my power to avoid our home town.
Yes, I actually ran away when I saw him in public and did everything in my power to avoid the area his parents lived. They lived three blocks away from my in-laws.
I really wouldn't know what to do if I felt another way.
It's a part of me.
It has made me the person that I am today.
It has also made me far too cautious of relationships with the opposite sex.
*******
We have met a few times over the years. The first ten years or so, I did everything in my power to avoid our home town.
Yes, I actually ran away when I saw him in public and did everything in my power to avoid the area his parents lived. They lived three blocks away from my in-laws.
I really don't know what to do when he appears to try to straighten me out.
It's not his responsibility.
The heartbreak is such a big part of who I am.....I don't know how to live without it.
It just is.
The lessons are good for me.
The lessons are good for me.
******
His name was Thomas.
I called him Tom.
It was one of those relationships when I wasn't really sure if we were dating, no matter what we did.
I think I was swimming in 'de Nile.
Other people had to explain it to me. It was a math teacher who used Tom and I as an example when giving word problems to the class about couples and financial planning.
The ol' guy was pretty sharp.
******
The thing with Tom and I....is....well.....we were too much alike in some ways.
We looked so much alike that people mistook him for my brother.
We differed in other ways. He was more reliable, practical and predictable than I.
I'm fairly bohemian.
I'm fairly bohemian.
He wore nice clothes.
I'm happy dressing in thrift shop clothes that look like they were donated in the sixties.
He drives nice, reliable cars.
I always wanted a beat-up VW van with peace signs and flowers painted on it.
It couldn't have worked.
The universe helped us see that. The relationship ended when I was offered a music scholarship at a college two hours away.
He handed me a note saying he was breaking up with me.
I threw it into a book and didn't read it.
I thought he'd be happier.
I didn't understand why he would always seem to be just a few steps away.
My ex-husband found the note 20 years later, opened it and read it. At the time we were sleeping apart. His family wanted us divorced. My ex was ecstatic when he explained that my first love never wanted to leave me. The note explained that he was leaving me so I wouldn't use our relationship as an excuse to avoid college.
That wouldn't have happened.
Finding this out 20 years later didn't change a thing. I couldn't even understand my ex-husband's excitement at finding the note.
Twenty years is like a lifetime! What a heart wants at 17 is not usually the same thing it wants at 37!
It was creepy that my stalker ex was going through my stuff. It turns out he was hunting down these things I had long forgotten and asking his cousin to find Tom to return them. I wouldn't find out about that for another eight years.
That broke my heart and scared the holy hell out of me. How dare he try to bring my zombie love back to life?
Sigh.....
My ex-husband found the note 20 years later, opened it and read it. At the time we were sleeping apart. His family wanted us divorced. My ex was ecstatic when he explained that my first love never wanted to leave me. The note explained that he was leaving me so I wouldn't use our relationship as an excuse to avoid college.
That wouldn't have happened.
Finding this out 20 years later didn't change a thing. I couldn't even understand my ex-husband's excitement at finding the note.
Twenty years is like a lifetime! What a heart wants at 17 is not usually the same thing it wants at 37!
It was creepy that my stalker ex was going through my stuff. It turns out he was hunting down these things I had long forgotten and asking his cousin to find Tom to return them. I wouldn't find out about that for another eight years.
That broke my heart and scared the holy hell out of me. How dare he try to bring my zombie love back to life?
Sigh.....
In typing this now, I realize that I still haven't finished college. My initial aspiration was towards a Ph.D. I only have a Master's. I promised my mother that I'd get a doctorate while she lay dying from my step-father's assault. It was the last promise I made to her. I still haven't kept it.
Maybe I cannot have a relationship until I finish school.
I'll have to ponder that.
******
One should be wary if their family brings up taboo names during Christmas dinner.
This happens too much.
My family loved Tom.
My sister was very upset that we didn't marry.
There was a horrible Christmas when Tom witnessed my sister being thrown out into the street by an uncle who was supposed to be her foster parent. My uncle gave her to the man who killed our mother. This man shot himself in front of my sister. The police brought my sister to her legal home and my uncle threw her out into the snow.
Tom was aghast! I was too angry to feel.
I rarely speak to my uncle. My uncle and I have an understanding. He is an asshole and I don't trust him. My eyes are on him and I go after him when he tries to steal property from my other relatives.
I'm a mean person!
I heard about that just a few weeks ago, on Christmas Eve. My sister appreciated Tom. She appreciated how I fought for her.
My sister mentioned Tom within earshot of my 19 year old daughter.
Sigh....
He was a gentleman.
He looked a lot like me.
I, according to my sister, was happy when I was with Tom (although I think he'd beg to differ).
He looked like my daughter's boyfriend. Yeah...they both are tall and have a hipster vibe going on....
I zoned out from the conversation.
I let the conversation remind me of the emptiness that is my constant companion. The emptiness I used to fill with books, saxophones, guitars, microphones, keyboards and mixing boards.
To this very day, thoughts of Tom make me run for my recording studio. In fact, he doesn't know this, but he inspired several hypnosis videos and recordings that help people move on after the loss of love.
I even have one to help guys ask women out. I don't maintain my YouTube channels. People are still passing them around on file sharing websites. I'm okay with that.
To this day, people write to ask what inspired those works. I rarely answer. I got one on Saturday. Maybe I'll email this man, answer his question, and send him a link to an updated sound file.
I try to fill the emptiness with stuff.
******
It's hard to explain this...but...I truly believe we were meant to be together for a short period of time during our formative years.
That relationship made me a softer and kinder person.
Imagine me....meaner.
Yeah, he fixed that (just a little bit....I'm still a heathen).
When I miss him, there is a thought that makes me fill the emptiness with joy.
I imagine him happily married.
Now, I don't know if this is the case. It makes me happy. It takes away the pain.
It keeps me from spending hours hunched over my microphones talking at the acoustic panels that fills my bedroom walls.
I'm never dating again....so I made my bedroom useful.
It is one my recording areas.
And, yeah.....another classmate invited me to the 30th class reunion.
I don't want to go.
It would break my heart to see Tom single and alone again. It would hurt even more if I were sharing dinner with another man while spying him alone.
I think I'll decline the date.
It's better if I do not know Tom's fate.
I think I like swimming in de Nile.
Come on in.....the water's fine!
******
As much as I pray for the happiness of other people.
It never dawned on me that other people want to see me happy.
Until my daughter told me of a dream.
In this dream, I'm with a man who is taller than I.
He looks just like me.
He's kissing me by the front door and I am happy.
His name is Tom.
Oh, in this dream, my daughter is pregnant and looking forward to the new adventure awaiting her.
And better yet, her siblings are happy because they have someone that can teach them to code and plays video games with them*.
******
She asked me for the meaning of the dream.
I know she wants to believe I'm going to see this guy again
or find some kind of love and be happy.
That's not the meaning of the dream.
My daughter's life is pregnant with possibilities.
She's nineteen.
It's time for her grand adventure.
I get the sense that she's afraid to leave the nest until she sees that I'm happy.
It's not her responsibility to make anyone happy outside of herself.
So now, I'm trying to find a way to convince her that I'm deliriously happy so she can move forward with her life -
and bring life to her creations....
her possibilities.
It's all about happiness.
She wants my happiness.
She wants her siblings to be happy.
I want her happiness.
I'm realizing that I can help her find her happiness by giving her permission to move forward in her life.
I don't want her to make the same mistakes I made.
I want her to live HER life....not mine.
I want her to trust that her siblings will find what they need to be happy. *I'm also realizing that they are disappointed in my coding skills and inability to play video games newer than Frogger.
At nineteen, your primary job is to take risks and find out who you are.
I don't want to rob her from that.
Maybe if I save up for Botox injections, I can engineer a permanent smile on my face.
In all seriousness, it's time to get all of them out of the house and prepare them for the adventure that is to become their life.
Watching them bloom, should help me smile.
If I give the appearance of happiness, perhaps I give others permission to be happy, too.
It's a lot to think about.
******
I'll be lucky if I live long enough to clean up the messes that have been brought to my door.
My sh!t list just keeps getting longer.
I'll probably have to run for office to go after the Colorado Department of Transportation (aka CDOT). The leadership must be profiting off of toll roads as they are splitting the profits with a private company (someone must have stock in this company). There has to be a way to make it illegal for them to sign contracts that indebt taxpayers without a vote of the people....sigh.
Perhaps TABOR needs strengthened.
I'll never be nice. In just a few years, my red hair will fade to white and I'll be a vicious Irish b!tch disguised as Andy Warhol.
I can't wait!
Love ya,
S.