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Subject: he dreamed of me and told me so

Author:
kb

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Date Posted: 23:27:32 03/17/05 Thu

He left me this unusual voicemail. He doesn't often call. He called just to tell me he dreamed of me, and the message lured me in.
Its Thursday morning, early. The sun is up, but all is quiet. There are bunch of birds outside my window. I am totally alone. My curtains drawn, my heart seems to be opening. Something eggs me on. I pick up the phone. I must have just remembered how my friends, like this one, are only a hair away. I must have forgotten again. I choose to forget over and over.

"But he gave me an excuse to call." This certainly helps for one who shies away so immediately and so often, yet yearns alone on her safe throne, for the red meat of life she knows is a carnivorous chomp or slick lick away.

Ok here goes, i put the drugs down and dial his number. Hey he says, "No its not too early." And "No, I am lying in bed too." He tells me of his dream. How it was simple. How in it he was scuba diving into water and that he was going deep down into the ocean and then coming up to the surface. He says, In this dream, you are on the surface of the water, in a little row boat, and you are awaiting my arrival from down under. You have a scolding look on your face and you tell me that I have gone too deep and that I went too fast. I should really take more caution in these waters."

We muse at how this is the imagery of intimacy and the troubles we decide await in the trenches and the deep waters. How the surface bears safety and how sometimes we think staying there is more right, and definately more protected.

We laugh. Between my thighs I have placed my hand and heavy pressure as I listen to him on the other end of the phone. Between my silk shorts, my pussy swells and i feel him inside me while he is miles away - his voice enters and burrows its way down and back up again to my throat so that i speak next.

Shifting into emotional, we talk of his mom and her death and my dad and his affair and how much we love knowing that we can change the one automatic viewpoint that his mom's death was nothing but sad and that her pain was oh so great and that my dad is a liar and his choice is oh so mean and wrong, and hey how about that they are whole beings and how about appreciating that we can hold them as such and for me that my father is still alive and breathing. And that he reaches out to me in his own way.

We muse at our parallels. Revel for a moment in mutual appreciation of our friend N and what she has brought to our lives, how this idea of "bringing reality to our experience" is a great game.

We have realized why we are talking at barely 7:45 am this crispy Thursday. We are on the cusp. He knows since returning to the states that his getaway changed him and that something inside is stirring and hungering for a different way of living. That scuba diving way is sounding better than the boat. I tell him i know what you mean and that remember that we are crossing paths over and over again for good reason and we might as well listen up. Opening our eyes to the one organism-ness of our experiences we giggle and agree that this shit is fascinating!

And frustrating cause where we stop we keep stopping. We have been shown that the choice to suffer is just one of many ways to live. We could just jump, but then we would have to do the work. We sit here, he and I in our car at the drive in watching a movie screen play out our potential lives as free beings. We are viewing our if only lives suddenly without the if only part. And we are just plain free. And it is just plain a ball here.

We like being on the cusp.

Now we seem to have descended. Slid down landed kaput. I feel full. Full where i was empty. He feels sweet like candy. I am puddling outward sensation. Breathing in breathing out. Released, he says "We just had a great date."

I am positively done. A light, feathery-joy moment.

(The best dates have clear beginnings and clear endings, I think.)

"Goodbye."
"Call me later this afternoon, lets get together soon."
"Ok."

Hanging up, immediately i want to reach for something to do next, make another call, get up, move around, I can feel my heart like an elastic balloon, tight and fluttery. Fear fear fear, but i dont buy it. I just lie there. And i feel my huge heart and all this space and it is snaillike but it is actually opening! And the sensation moves almost slithers down and horizontally across each rib in my rib cage and into my skin. Everything relaxes to soft and still.

About three times while i observe my sensations, i tell myself it is ok to let go. And it really is....

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