Crying through broken verses and vacant metrical sense, I resorted to doing the only thing there was left to do--> Pray.
"God, I don't ask you for much and I know it is against your rules for me to be able to see my own future, but please, just show me if I ever get proposed to. Don't show me for my sake, just show me for my husband's sake so I won't miss him if he arrives."
It was a basic prayer, maybe not selfless, but direct. I don't beat around a burning bush with God, he's my most reliable therapist, so I unload all doubts and reservations of life...as petty as they may be. I quickly recited the Lord's prayer, tacked onto the husband request, as I began to slip further into slumber. It was the type of slumber that plays tricks on your restless mind and won't permit a numbing dream to start too soon. There was tossing and turning and in between the wrestling of the sheets and fluffing of the pillows, I was alone in my pondering.
Ponder, ponder, subliminal is this life. Confessions to myself are like water from time to time, my own subliminal messages from my higher self come in a guilty Morse code that taps on my brain, demanding total honest about the reality I face when I am away for the answers in my dreams. I am guilty of falling in love with ideals more so than actual men. I seesaw between extreme romanticism and being intellectually objective. My limitations in love stem from self-preservation and desire for independent emotional security. I never questioned my self-worth or suffered from self-esteem woes prior to placing excessive trust in abusive, controlling partners, but afterwards, once the bloody dust had settled, I found myself as a single mother, a young daughter observing my every move. If I cry she wants to know why. If I am alone, she wants to know why she can't have a daddy for Christmas. If I cringe when I look in the mirror, she catches on like a catcher guarding home base at the World Series. For my daughter's sake, I knew loving myself was the right thing to do, if only so she wouldn't inherit learned self-resentment from me at the cost of her own a stable and self-confident future.
The infatuations of the past that did not come with black and blue price tags, included men adorned with wandering body parts. Is this nature at work and over play or did I fail as a woman in some way to captivate their fancy for a significant duration of time? I loved being a redhead for so long until all of the comparisons made me feel it wasn't a gift, but a curse. Did these men suffer because of my curse? I may never know, but if I have to ask questions like that, the relationship needs no further time investment on my behalf. When it comes to relationships, diamonds are not a girls best friend--time is. The best thing I can do is neutralize these experiences so they cease to have any leverage over my present and future. It isn't fair to any man if I were to drive a u-haul truck of self-loathing and baggage into his world and pray it could be concealed or downplayed under novel and fuzzy feelings of a fresh, clean-slated love.
No, I just assume drive that old loaded truck over a bridge and leave the scene as quickly as possible. What I will carry are theses precious lessons I've collected along the way...with faith that in the end...these lessons are as weightless as my soul, the only sign and soul marks of this life God will afford me to take with me once I make the grand exit through the right door. Where is that door? People talk about heaven being a distant fairytale place on the other side of a whirlpool galaxy, but what if this isn't true? what if heaven is right inside of us? What if heaven is the substance our souls are made of and has gone virtually ignored by the ongoing quest for wasteful space exploration? Ever heard of astral travel NASA?
Dreaming is just another way to explore this ideal of heaven...the only ideal that is truly safe for me to fall in love with...the all-encompassing cosmic Christ. I don't know where I fall as far as maturity, but I know that I welcomed Christ to grow in the temple and He has never truly left. I'm playful, but I take falling in love very seriously...so much so that I have come to the decision to not even date anyone I haven't dreamed about. What is the point of trying to fall in love with someone your higher self hasn't set you up with in dreamland?
You're higher self doesn't want you to be controlled or manipulated by another human being, it safeguards against it...with the blessed thing that is a warning dream or your own priceless intuition. I rarely if ever dreamed about my former boyfriends and in retrospect, wonder why I exhausted so many awful cycles with them which ultimately proved not to be a ring leading to marriage, but a bike lock that needed to be broken so I could ride away as fast as possible and end the cycle for good. Thankfully, that's all stuffed away in the aforementioned u-haul truck now and isn't worth revisiting further.
So back to this husband chat with God. I had no preconceived ideas of who God might want me to end up with, but there he was, becoming more vivid in my dream with each breath he took. I heard him ask about a redhead...I embedded myself to the silence and sat expressionless on a bed, like a throw pillow, sipping his conversation about a quest for a redhead. He finally spots me, glides over, and sits down on the bed, shoulders square and his eyes locked on mine.
"We could be just like a real couple." He promised me with his blue eyes shimmering like sunlight over the sea.
I didn't know what to say. I am pretty sure my tongue slipped into a coma and refused to cooperate. In all the concealed passion I had harbored for him, for the ideal man that he is, I could find nothing but the gesture of repose in a hypnotic stare of happy agreement. I knew God was responding to my prayer and was astonished he would respond to me with the answer in the face of this beautiful, charming man....who is very much alive and well in the world. I wanted it to be real. In my heart, I wanted to wake up with my hand still slipped between his fingers. For a few moments, I was flying. My heart pounded so hard against my ribcage, I awoke in a furious sweat. I hated waking up and as soon as my eyes met the darkness of my room, I wished they had never parted from the light in that man's eyes. I was alone again and left only with the fading image of the way he'd looked at me and the echo of his voice, convincing me to believe and have faith that we could be a real couple.
Relationships in any form---dream or otherwise--- should not lead to entrapment or jail cells-- they should involve helping our lovers to build wings and fly beyond the simplicity of loving on a human level, reaching higher towards the totality of understanding in loving unconditionally under God. That love is unrestricted and limitless and the idea is to share it, not control it or leash it. I can't say if I will ever share anything with this man beyond a few remarkable pages in my dream journal, but in the gracious awareness that we both reside in this limitless world, while I'm tucked in and fast asleep under stars that get wished on everyday, it fulfills and thrills me to even be able to explore the possibilities with the dreamy version of him.