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More Dreams of Men From My Past

Today I am thankful for dreams.  

I just don't have a lot of time to write about them.

In this dream, I'm sitting next to a tall man who grabs my hand and tells me that he "loves me."

I reflect those dreaded two little words verbally, to which, he replies, "after all these years."

Now - I can't see his face.

I'm not sure who he is.

I've only deeply loved three four guys in my entire life.  Three of them were tall.

It's time to keep a look out for someone with familiar eyes.


 The opposite of love is not hate: It is indifference. - unknown 

Michael is stuck on the other side of the coin - that man hates me right now.

That leaves two.

I write far too much of the person I dream about the most. 



 (If I ever get married again, and the guy's name is not Tom - I'm buying a vintage Oberheim if it's even possible - lol).  


There is someone else I dream about once in a while. 



(My old friend Sampson was a big Pink Floyd fan.  I think he'd like Phish, too). 

I could have sworn I saw an old friend while I was hunting for homeless people at Cherry Creek State Park.  He only smiled and stared. The man left before I could end my conversation and approach him.

He literally does this!  I see him inside stores, he stares and leaves.  Once his driver parked  alongside my old car.  He waved from the backseat as the driver departed.  I've seen him hanging out with homeless folks on street corners.  When I wave and turn my car around, he's gone!

His family is wealthy.  Sampson is fairly religious and likes to live on faith (possibly why I help the homeless so much).  He used to sleep outside with homeless folks once in a while.  He also took them into his apartment when he was very young to give them a place to stay while they got on their feet.

Back in the day, he was Pagan.  I was a devout Christian.  He recently changed his Pagan name to a Christian one.

Now, Sampson is Christian and I am a devout Pagan.  Religion always gets in my way.

Besides, rumor has it that he married a beautiful woman.

I don't even think friendship would be cool if it freaks her out. 

We were very close.  I didn't realize how close until he presented me with an engagement ring, a ruby and an emerald (both fourth chakra stones).  His father called me to tell me he wanted to welcome me into the family. It was 1988.

I was so traumatized from a rape that occurred almost a year prior, I really didn't feel up to getting married or anything.  I truly felt this man was trying to save me so I declined.

I haven't really spoken to him much since then.  Although he shows up when I'm in danger (seriously....I had a husband beat the shit out of me and he literally showed up, out of the blue, to challenge him and then he unceremoniously left).  I had not seen him in years.

It's a strange relationship.

 I was afraid to talk to Sampson because of the stalking from my ex-husband's family.  He used to send letters to my sister and she'd give them to me.  Those letters stopped eighteen years ago.

Once in a while, I will see him.  He is blond with brown eyes.  He now has a little bit of gray in his hair and, he likes to wear khaki.  He still grins at everyone, too.  It's easy to pick out his smile as he has a gap in his front teeth.  He has a very unique walk.  It's fast, his waist is typically bent forward and his long arms swing wildly.  I've never met another person with the rectangular shape of his face.

It's easy to spot Sampson. 

I'd wish that he would stick around and say hello. Then again, I realize that this guy is mirror for me.

I'm usually the one who runs away.

*****

Right now, I'm laughing about the day we met.  I was sexually assaulted a few days prior.  The neighbors found out and didn't want me to be alone so they brought over shrooms and pot.  I had no end of protectors from that day forward.

Sampson, high as hell, grabbed my vintage Peavey T-40, strummed it over and over saying

"ooooh"

He had gathered a crowd around him and held a little concert.  All I remembered is hearing the constant melody of strumming following by "ooooh."

If his aim was to crack me up, he did a great job.  That cracks me up to this day.

Me?  I'm not a toker.  I'm allergic to pot.  They put the shrooms on pizza.  Well, I'm allergic to wheat and cheese (and always on a diet).  So I wasn't a lot of fun that day.

Anyway.....

*****

I think spirit is trying to tell me something.  Maybe Sampson has ideas on how to start a 501(c)3 for the homeless.  He may even want to help change one of the most challenging problems in Colorado - homelessness.  He would hold the knowledge.

The Gods know that our politicians are too chicken-shit to do anything about it (Yeah...Polis and Hancock, I'm talking about YOU and the Denver Democrat party's tax hike to help the homeless but refusal to do so.  Do I want to throw money away on a CORA to find out where that dough went?)

Maybe that's what I want to do subconsciously.

Either that or my nocturnal self is engaging in fear mongering (love is scary)

or wish-fulfillment.

We will see.

Still, there has to be some knowledge or motivation that I can glean by reviewing these echoes of the past.

Love ya,

S.

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