Why, cause I was dreaming a fabulous dream.
I'm one of those people who love to sleep. My dreams feel real and I rarely have nightmares. Last night (or rather this morning) I was making love with an amazing guy. I say here making love not having sex. I mean, I've had lots of sex dreams and was always seriously bummed at waking up because I am one of those five percent of the female population that have the ability to um...how to I put it delicately...that have the ability to reach "the peak" while asleep. And how its that possible by the way? I mean, there's no one there. I'm not moving around, a male model ain't in bed with me. And it doesn't happen after a great date or thinking about men (or eating chocolate cake) or any thing the night before. So how can I do that??? Anyway, last night I was making love. Like LOVE. Now, I have not been in love for years. Many years. Many, many, many...oh you get the picture, and I often think I don't remember what it feels like to be in love. I was doing a book a couple years back called "Calling in the One" (he never heard nor came by the way) and there was an exercise where you had to close your eyes and conjure up the feeling of being in love. I couldn't do it. I was most upset about it. That was probably around the time when I stopped reading it, so upset was I. Well, this is the second time where I experienced LOVE in my sleep. Short lived as it was. Only a few minutes. Crazy huh? I mean, I can understand the sex thing, lots of people experience those sex dreams and as I said 5 % "finish up" in there sleep, but I have never heard of the love thing. In the beginning of the year, I had a dream, it lasted more than a few minutes. Actually it felt like hours.
Check this out: I'm in a tropical country. I'm living in a bamboo type constructed house. Very beautiful, lush, green. I'm cooking and feeling slow, warm, joyful peace. I am thankful and confident with my world and my life. My home is open, full of art and nature. I hear men walking and talking outside and my husband coming in. I look down (I'm seeing all this out my own eyes by the way, not from outside like watching a movie) and I am wearing a brown linen dress with designs on it and some type of beautiful beading. And my body is rocking. Flat stomach, lean and healthy. My husband is looking right at me, intensely, with such love emanating from him. He is carrying some kind of tool, he had been working in the field. He's some kind of supervisor, owner, manager. He was a bit dirty and sweaty but I was overjoyed, as always, to see him. We are so in love. He b-lines it right over to me and goes to his knees. He pulls me too him and wraps his arms around my waist and rests his head on my stomach and just holds me. Love circles us and I just drink in that love energy. This is something he does all the time. Holds me like this. I stand there in comfortable calm ecstasy.
Then I woke up. And instead of crying, was beaming, glowing. Like I was truly in love.
Crazy huh? All day long I felt that guy. Felt loved. Knew, this guy loved me. Knew I loved him. And it was a dream. And I still remember what he looked like. Nothing like I would ever dream I'd end up with. He was short, hard looking, big long nose, dark hair, looked Italian, Iranian, something like that. Not a model, not FINE, Not very attractive at all. We loved each other fiercely. And where was that place? I knew it well. It was my home.
How can it happen? How can I feel such profound love that isn't there? Am I to believe that love from outside comes from me? I mean, I know self love is essential to a good life, but I'm telling you, I felt LOVE, real love coming FROM this guy. A real force.
Man, I wish I could go back there.
Or he could come here.