Today I am thankful that my first love has class.
I'm still having nightmares about a guy from my past.
So I did the most selfish thing I could do;
I contacted him and related my sorrow about finding his parents' grave within feet of my family's patch of graves. It broke my heart to realize that both of his parents were gone.
He responded.
Hooray - he's alive.
He seemed coherent.
The dreams are just all in my head.
I did offer to let him reach out if he needed anything or if the Covid isolation is proving to be painful.
Often though, reaching out to an ex is selfish. This is especially true if he's posted about limerence (that probably wasn't about me)
If he posted about nightmares I'd believe they were about me.
I'm a monster.
*****
We are both blessed. According to the site we connected on, he moved to a city up in the mountains where the Hypnomobile can't go. The last time I went shopping up there, my car didn't want to get through the tunnel. It doesn't like high altitudes.
I don't have to worry about running in to him in public. I have a bad habit of running to former loves when I'm bloated, my makeup is running off my face and I failed to wear deodorant.
Its evil.
Maybe not - running in to me is just confirmation that running off was a good idea in the first place. :)
Whew....
*****
He didn't say he was married, so I'll be praying for him to find his happy.
I also apologized for being a raving lunatic (not those words exactly but that's how I would describe my behavior).
Maybe that will end the nightmares. Maybe they are borne out of guilt for being creepy.
Dreaming of him isn't the nightmare.
Dreaming of him in pain is my nightmare.
Those dreams break my heart.
I had another bad dream last night but I don't know if I want to say what it was. I want to cry just thinking about it.
This is starting to get silly.
I'm off to light a white candle asking that his biggest wish comes true.
With any luck, I'll sleep well tonight.
I think believing that he is okay is the absolute best birthday gift for me.
May all your dreams be sweet.
Love ya,
S.
Next Day Edit - I didn't sleep very much. I spent most of the night thinking about work and school.
On the bright side, when one doesn't sleep, there are no nightmares!
Woo hoo!
Now, I'm off to break some twigs in my home town.
Two Days Later: Two days nightmare free!
I think I have a ritual.
Here's what I do:
I found old negatives of the star in my dreams and a copy printed up. Wrote on the back, "please bring my friend [name] that which will make him happiest."
I stuck it on my altar and lit a WHITE 10-hour candle. White is important. White brings someone whatever is in his/her/their highest good.
Viola!
I didn't dream of my old friend in pain.
I dreamt of myself in pain watching the crazy politicians destroy our republic while I'm helpless to stop them.
In the last dream, I took a job as a professor and had to listen to liberals drone on and on about bullshit and scream that we have a democracy not a republic.
Even though that is a nightmare, I can cope better with that one.
Maybe tonight I'll light a candle to Liber (Dionysus) and pray about the state of our country.
Love you lots,
S.
Edit Four Days Later: Well....at least I had three days nightmare free. I wouldn't say the dream was necessarily a nightmare -but- it wasn't exactly all unicorns and rainbows. Well, that's a lie. I'm pretty sure there was a unicorn in it.
Here's the deal - I shouldn't be dreaming of him anymore. He should be happy with a hot woman. I should be, I don't know, a hermit in the mountains surrounded by oil pastels, canvas, musical instruments, microphones and a mixing board.
Oh look at me, I'm shoulding all over myself and everyone else.
That's why I let him go back in the day. I honestly thought he'd be happier. It was a sacrifice. My teenage self didn't understand that we can't control another person's happiness.
I can try to control my own.
The dreams have been going on since I was sixteen years old. Even my gay roommate told me about the dreams. Once, I fell asleep at a party. Oh....My....Imagine 40+ people trying to play matchmaker!! Talk about a real nightmare! Thankfully, they had the wrong guy pegged as "Tom."
The dreams lessened quite a bit when I was in grad school. I'm just too damn cheap to get my doctorate. At this point, it could be worth it.
I'll just find a way to cope with my subconscious stuff.
Maybe I should brush up on the bass line to Tom Sawyer and keep Charlie* by my bed. I don't think I can afford a decent synth now.
At least, I can pretend to be dreaming of role playing as Getty Lee when I'm waking up the house screaming "Oh No! Not Again! [Name I fear waking up the house with]." I could chime in with "Modern day warrior, mean, mean stride...."
That never really worked.
Sigh.....
I tried.
* Charlie is my Fender Precision. Bass playing was my true first love. Daddy bought me a T-40 for my sixteenth birthday. Maybe I can hypnotize myself to believe the dreams are inspirations for songs or something. 
What would it be?
Another Steinberger? Purple (he wore a lot of purple)? Or blue (he had this adorable blue jean jacket)?
Maybe a bass that came out in 1987....I bought a black 5 string Steinberger Spirit when we broke up in '87 but I didn't like the sound. It was a little too bright, light, twangy and popish. I gave it away before I tried to have the fretboard looked at. It went to a public school's jazz program. It's all good.
This bass is nice - they came out in '87.
Hey - basses fix everything, don't they?
Ooooh!!!
This.....
may....
work....
It's just an excuse to buy another bass.
I'd better start saving my pennies.
Seriously - if I throw myself back into music, I won't have time to dwell on nightmares and annoy old friends who, hopefully, are living the life of their dreams now.
Love ya,
S.