When I had my first break-up, I played this cassette over and over daily until it wore out. Then I bought the album. I had always intended to learn how to play this song on my own but, somehow, I never did.
Today I am thankful for reflection.
There is a realization that too much reflection with too few facts can lead to a negative emotional state.
Since I found my dream diary and that note that I thought was long gone, I've been sad.
I finished reading the entire dream diary last night.
Sigh....
The last entry was from 2009. In this dream, my old friend talks about alcoholism being a slow suicide.
I don't know why that made me sad.
I don't know him to indulge in drink. Really....our relationship was too innocent for us to see that sort of thing in each other.
I don't know if that was my fear for him - or - if those dreams reflected the drug and alcohol certification classes I'd just finished at the time the dream occurred.
In fact, I'm retaking those courses now. In 2011, the Colorado board of licensure changed the names of many of the courses, which mandated I retake them.
I'd just spent $7,000 getting the training. Drug and alcohol counseling really doesn't pay all that well. I had no intention of becoming a substance abuse counselor. I just wanted to understand the issue so I could identify people that needed referred. I'll spare you my rant about licensure laws and problems they cause.
Last night, while wiping the tears away from my face, I closed the book and noticed the cover.
The cover gave me comfort.
Here is a picture:
On some level, when I bought the diary, I must have believed that examining the dreams would help me move forward.
It didn't.
Sigh.....I find myself torn between saving the book or using it for fireplace kindling.
Maybe there was a purpose to this seemingly pointless exercise.
The entire relationship and thirty one years that have passed have made me sad for the extremely poor communication Tom and I had during the break.
My feelings were hurt. I basically hid.
I can't speak to what he did. There were rumors - ugly rumors. I don't have the guts to ask if those things happened. I'd probably cry more than I do now if I found out those things were true.
I can say that in the years that passed, I have been afraid to tell this person what has happened in my life even when he sat just a foot away from me.
The last time I met, I tried to tell him why I engaged in politics. The current city leadership was corrupt. They stole money from my family. I would learn in just a few months that they stole money from other families, too.
My old friend couldn't understand it. I saw a comment he left on Facebook equating me to Ayn Rand. Rand wouldn't approve of my politics.
I did what I felt had to be done. The mayor sitting in that chair was corrupt as hell. I didn't realize how bad it was until he pushed me into a door jamb. Normal people don't do that.
The things that followed were the comedy of nightmares. I've blogged it. I have notebooks of testimony regarding it in my basement, too. It was a mess. Other local politicos tried to help so it brought out good things as well as bad things.
On the bright side, I liked the mayor that wound up winning the election as a person. He cared. Even if we didn't agree, he cared about doing the right thing for the community.
I have an incredible amount of respect for the man who succeeded him. There were times when I would say some crazy things in front of an audience. The man who would up sitting in the big chair....well...he would take the time to educate everyone in the room about how the city is run.
I don't think I lost anything. Every single thing I wanted to accomplish happened swiftly. It happened between the time I tossed my hat in the ring and election day.
I just think the information needed to reach the right ears.
What probably happened was that I prayed so much about it that the Divine pushed me into that place so I could help, on some small level, to fix the problems.
Perhaps that is what life is about, following our gut to answer prayers - whether they are our own or someone else's.
Oh....and our new mayor...well....he's looking into racism at the police department. I may not have to say a word. I'm going to have to let my retired cop buddy know.
Maybe I can move away now. Things seem to be moving in a better direction.
I don't know what to think about the dream journal.
I'm still searching for the lessons.
There is a possibility that there isn't one.
Life is life.
Things happen in such random fashion that we may not be able to make sense of it.
******
There is one thing....
One of my adult daughters has a best friend who puts me in mind of my first boyfriend.
He's a geek.
He's super-smart.
He loves animals. In fact, he was the one who pointed out our neighbor kicking the cat that we wound up adopting. This young man was livid (and that would be an understatement).
He's got a little hipster vibe going on - complete with the hipster beard.
It's funny (not his beard)…I mean it's a funny situation because he even looks like my old friend.
He tends to date very beautiful, popular girls. They tend to break his heart.
When that happens, he runs to my daughter. The last time, he was so hurt that he dropped out of college and nearly ran off to the military.
My daughter was sad at the thought of losing her friend.
You know....I told her about my first love. I told her that I NEVER had the guts to be honest with myself or anyone else about my feelings. Other people had to tell me what was going on.
That was unfair.
I kept the story G-rated. I didn't talk about the bizarre stuff. I just told her about the scholarship and that the very next day he stated that he was leaving me. He gave me a note I didn't read for twenty years and when I finally found it and read it, it stated that he wanted to be with me but feared it would keep me from doing the things I wanted to do in life.
I also told her it was heartbreaking to meet with him decades later and find that his life was not as happy and carefree as I had wished for him.
My daughter told me that the story was really very sad. It hurt her heart to think that two people could misunderstand each other so much that they unintentionally hurt each other.
Now, I don't know if his life would have been better if there were more honest. If I were in his life, he may never have done some of the awesome things he has done. I probably wouldn't have met the fun people I've met.
Who knows? After seeing how insane my last real relationship became, I wonder if my saliva makes people crazy. I think I have a tendency to make men feel insecure which probably led to the hitting and stalking.
I'm terrified of getting into another relationship.
Maybe I'd have driven him batshit crazy, too.
It seems that the story helped my daughter and her friend on some level. They've been spending more time together. He's decided to think things through before running off and joining the army.
I'd hate to think that my kiddos repeat my lessons.
Maybe....I got what I needed.
Perhaps I can retire that dream journal and letter.
I'm feeling depressed.
Depression is just a feeling of stagnation.
So, I'll start a new journal in which I'll record some things I'd like to accomplish before I return to the ether.
Perhaps that will help.
I've already chosen three nasty cops I'd love to paint.
Love ya,
S.