Jul 22, 2014

Dear Dreams

Summary: Personal address to my dreams on a topic that continues to break me down and build me up again; Cognitive analysis for therapy, outlining how much I really do know about the person in question; Comparing my fear-based perception of his personality against what my dreams and the few actual interactions I've had with him reveal; Informative dream the following night on the matter.

 (Disclaimer: Contains sexually explicit and potentially disturbing material.)

Dear Dreams,

I love that you are there for me, poking holes in my conclusions, training me for world changes I can't confirm or interpret, but I need to cry on your shoulder this once and beg you for relief on something you keep persisting about.

He is not ready to be with me, and frankly I am not ready to be with him. I need communication and the only communication I get is through you. You inform me, annoyingly, of his truth, who he is at his core, but in the physical world, I can't live with only the core of someone. We must live with both sides, the spiritual and the physical. I know he loves me, I know he believes no woman will be able to handle his military duties, or his tainted perspective of women and relationships, I know he's ignoring me because he thinks he's protecting me, I know he's busy trying to build his status toward raising a family he worries he'll never have. You show me the sadness in his rough exterior. Still, I am in doubt. I trust you are trying to show me his truth, but how am I supposed to give up my sanity for him? I'd be that woman who takes a beating because she focuses only on the man she believes he is underneath.

This has stirred such a terrible unrest of which nothing else in my life could compare. All of my worst fears and issues brought to the forefront and all my strengths tested. How do I break myself of the belief that we can only heal with each other because each other is where so much of our struggles began.

I fret, just as I used to when I was young, about how he sees me, how he judges my traits and actions. He is silent and I can't be still. I feel so out of control, and yet I bet he feels I have too much over him. We don't even speak! How can we affect each other so much when we don't even talk! The only way we do communicate is in thought. We literally are living in a telepathic link we can't break away from. How do I have a relationship through silence? Learn to communicate with him as I would an imaginary friend? With an imaginary friend, I would believe him to always be available to talk and share with. Would he hear my calls, receive the emotions, states, and ideas I would send? Should I just start sending what I want to say across this fucking telepathic link?

After talking with Jordon -

Redefining who he is for myself based on actual conversation, not through third party interpretations and assumptions and Facebook info.

Based on my dreams: Wishing he could be with me, distant to protect himself from unfortunate reality, strong sense of duty/obligation, tough and stoic exterior, sad, feels he has little control over fate and choice, doesn't see options, relishes each moment with me, doesn't want to give himself false hope, pessimistic realist, survivor and sacrificial in certain areas, cold acceptance of harsh realities, fights to survive and a standard quality of life he worries will never happen for him, want all of me and only me and that in return.

Based on our actual conversations: quiet until comfortable than releases in a spew of explanation and description, longing, desperately curious about sex with someone he cares about and has respect for and history with, suppresses deep pain, accepting of the female body in its changes from motherhood, wants to be a loving attentive and protective father who would both arm his children with the skills and understandings of life, and help them thrive, reassuring, insecure yet composed, capable of turning states of mind on and off (compartmentalizing), equally frustrated with his preoccupation with having a relationship with me, doesn't know what to say, tentative about life changes and plans, pressured to be more stable financially, intimidated by Jim's success and our academic intelligence, supportive, withholds or is not sure how to communicate certain things but is honest when he does, doesn't like that I tease about misunderstandings and assume he meant something superficially,

Insecurities from my own assumptions: 1) He shares my messages with his Uncle or military buddies and ridicules my lifestyle and approaches, or what I "just don't get" without having served. 2) Doesn't really want to try polyamorous lifestyle with us but doesn't want to remove all hope with me by declining it altogether. 3) Unwilling to compromise perspective or opinion. 4) I'm not attractive enough to hold his interest. 5) We won't be able to find enough quality time to spend together without feeling our other obligations weighing down on us. 6) He'll be quick to call quits when something gets hard. 7) He'll be annoyed by my bipolar bouts and analytic ruminations that drag me into negative presumptions.

Dream that night, July 20/21st 2014

I hear Chris is ready to be with me. I am excited and relieved, but I keep having to tend to other people. I'm moving through a long house during a party. Friends I care about pull me aside and request personal time, which I fulfill by being intimate with them. We caress and have the dream equivalent of sex without a clear physical indication of intercourse. I live in the moment with each of them that needs to connect with me, but the call from Chris tickles my excitement to leave and continue through the house. It's a wooden home, no paint, a common theme of my dreaming to symbolize to me the physical world.

I come out into what seems to be both a back yard and front yard because three buildings surround it. I feel like I lost him. I don't know where he is.

A group of friends pull me into a tavern where we drink and eat and play loudly, but I am distracted and sullen. The tavern is packed with patrons, and the entertainment has people literally climbing up the columns leading into the rafters, beers in hand. Red light flashes around, another symbol I recognize that means indulgence or sexualism.

Someone asks what's wrong and I explain I was supposed to meet a friend. "Chris?" They say. "Yes!" This person knows about the arrangement, maybe they were the one who was supposed to bring me to him. Why was s/he (neutral gender?) sitting here in the tavern drinking? Didn't s/he care s/he was slacking on a promise made? S/he quickly, nonchalantly takes my hand and leads me out of the Tavern across the yard to a small single room cottage. Again, all buildings are unpainted wood structures.

S/he practically throws me in and I'm there standing with my love. Finally, after so much searching, there he is. I'm unsure how our reunion will go, quite nervous actually that it will disappoint or our connection won't manifest properly. He is relieved to see me. He knows I had to take care of those others first, but didn't say anything in the way of jealousy, though he may have felt so. He was just glad I was there.

I moved into the same mode of being a companion to him that I did for my other friends (acquaintances, people I wasn't very close to), but knew this was where I had wanted to be during all those other encounters. I lean into him to kiss. We lay on the bed for only a few moments before he pulls away with his eyes closed and makes a sound that suggests he is trying to push back something in his mind.

"Are you okay?" I ask him.
"Just... some old images." He replied. His truth hit me. Scenes and thoughts from his war-time were surfacing and interfering with his ability to be present and enjoy being with me.

I asked him if he would like some Listerine with me to clean our mouths. He agreed. I took a swig to swish, and he... well he took the bottle and methodically dropped it open across the bed so that a line of mouthwash made a moat across the bed. Then he picked up the cap and carefully broke off the flow between a three inch amount at the end and the rest of the stream from the bottle. I watched him curiously. When I thought I understood, I tried to help him by laying the cap (shaped like a cup) flat on its side and hard against the blanket to scoop up the section of mouthwash he cut off. I figured he was rationing out of habit. But he took the cap to do something else, which I lost sight of.

My consciousness lifted and traveled to a different scene. I look into the top floor of a house, through the roof. I see Chris, or a figure identified to me as being Chris, laying asleep in what looked like a sand box, without the sand. A short alien with an enormously bulbous head and thin limbs was hypnotizing him. It tickled his side and told him it was me. Chris giggled, then moaned. I was outraged, but also grateful. This being was imitating me, but it was also reminding him of me. It kept his love and connection for me alive despite our distance. Still, I was angry with it, so I moved in closer. When I entered the house, I tried to wake him up and tell him that it wasn't me who has been touching and lying to him. He awoke and was so happy to see me we became intimate.

As I'm tossing around with him, ecstatic to finally be with him, though our meeting was unexpected, my perspective catches us at an angle. Chris is not there, I am rolling around with a long plastic sac containing a brownish fluid. It triggered the idea of an umbilical cord in my mind but it looked nothing like an umbilical cord. I realized that same damn alien had manipulated my perception just as it had on Chris. I started to doubt if Chris had ever even been here.

The scene returns me to being with Chris at the one-room cottage where somehow time had continued with my body and consciousness even though I was there. We were in the middle of trying to help ease his discomfort and trouble focusing. After all my experience pleasing those friends, I believed I could help him. I dropped down to undo his pants and brought his penis into my mouth, trying to work away his tension.

The door opens and my life partner walks in. I look up and try to flag him to come back later. "Oh, you're busy. I should come back later." I'm embarrassed he saw me going down on another man, and my waking self began to pull from the dreamscape. I didn't want to leave it like that.

As I was waking, an image and idea overwhelmed both my sight and my physical sensation. Jim invited himself in to join us. I experienced a thrill of him penetrating me from behind while I made love to Chris's member, my own pleasure feeding into my oral giving. I awoke with a mind orgasm.

How teasing it was to rise out of bed and take my son to daycare after an experience like that.

Further Analysis

The feeding sac I was rolling around with, coupled with how Chris was teased into believing I was present, only strengthened the idea that this being was falsely satisfying our desire to be together, and strengthening our connection. We weren't wrong when we would joke something seems to be keeping us apart. Our lives are full of bad timings and missed opportunities to explore a relationship with each other. Whenever I was single, he was not, and vice versa, for twenty years. Pursuing a polyamorous dynamic was the only saving solution I finally landed on, and even that is not coming to fruition. I'm left with dreams that grant us time together. That bulbous headed alien is my dreaming. The alien's intentions had a balance of positive and negative. I specifically sought an indication that it was feeding on us, but didn't confirm that concern. There was love and sadness deep within it. It seemed more like a maintenance worker, putting a band-aid on a wound that continued to bust open and leak everywhere.


I understand. Of course, that's what my dreams always were with him. You're helping us cope while the conditions of life keep us apart. I suppose that's all you can do? It isn't? Not in the least you say? We have to be on the same page for you to enact the conditions for it to happen. We must weigh in on what will work best for us given the parameters of our lives.

Why even bother? Why not let each other fade from our memories? Why not strengthen the idea that we were raised like adopted siblings? (Because you weren't). Fine. Gotta take free will so seriously, don't you. Well, some clues as to how this

I meditated last night on this issue, asking if maybe I need to stop trying to force us to see each other, if maybe the universe will bring us together in its own time if I just stop messing with it. I kept feeling a resounding 'NO,' followed by a pleasing calm when my thoughts passed over the idea of trying to make a meeting happen. Should I trust the forces to bring us together without any meddling? No. I should try and trust our efforts will be supported by the spiritual forces.

Details on the Alien

The alien had a similar racial signal as the alien overseer (about half way down in the linked post is the description of this dream) that watched us from a subway station one-way window in the mountain face. Are these Arcturians? Is there a race of blue skinned and a race of tan skinned belonging to the same planetary origins?

Its head was disproportionately larger than its body. There is no way it would be able to walk against our gravity without assistance. The body was small, short, very thin. The skin was wrinkled, marked by age. Slanted almond eyes, not as large as I've seen before. Small button nose, thin mouth close to the nose. That head though looked like it was engorged with fluid. It looked painful. No definition of bone structure in the head other than the facial features and pointed jawline. 

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