Mysterious Ways

The mind works in such mysterious ways, I tell you.  When I went to bed last night, I was having one of those nights where I was feeling really nostalgic for the feel of sleeping next to someone.  Yes, I slept next to E for our one misbegotten night together.  But it was at his house, and I knew everything felt off kilter, and I slept poorly and briefly.  The last time I slept comfortably with anyone was with Artboy a few months back, during what would turn out to be our last encounter. 

It has been ages since the idea of sleeping in a bed with someone was a given.  I've not had that since I broke up with Angry Ex because the people I've dated since never got serious enough where frequent overnights were happening.  I guess that is why in my dream last night Angry Ex was there.

Usually when I dream about him I wake up scared and panicky.  Stressed, even.  But this morning?  This morning was one of those times when I kept hearing my alarm go off, and I kept snoozing it and going back to the dream.  I had that half consciousness that the dream was going to go away soon, and I was holding on so tightly.

I don't really remember much about it anymore, even though it was only a couple of hours ago.  All I know is that this time I tapped into the good parts of things with Angry Ex.  The comfort, the familiarity, the ability to touch someone or hug them or lean my head on their shoulder at my whim, without calculation or fear or insecurity.  We were together for almost two years, and in spite of all the bad times, I loved that intimacy. 

Even in my good dreams of Angry Ex, the truth still glimmers in the background.  I know in the dream he was playfully, subtly jealous of a guy friend who was present at some pool party we were attending.  I remember being aware of it, but feeling pleased that it seemed more like normal guy jealousy than the amped up variety he usually engaged in.

In the dream we were holding hands, and he was folding me into the crook of his arm, and he was touching my face and all of these tiny forms of contact that you take for granted when you're part of a couple.  The tiny forms of contact that I miss desperately and feel like I've never even had in some ways, it's been so long.

I had moments of that with Artboy.  What I loved best about him was the way he made me feel like the only person in the universe.  He looked straight into my eyes so often, and he touched my face with the whole of the palm of his hands.  We would lay in bed or on the couch and our legs would be tangled, and he would weave his fingers in between mine.  Bliss.

Dreaming about Angry Ex wasn't really about Angry Ex.  It was about the things that I miss, the physical intimacy I want to have again.  It's nice to be able to come away from the dream knowing that, even if it doesn't fix what's missing in my life.  I miss fitting into the curve of another person's body, and incidental kisses, and the warmth of my hand enveloped in someone else's. 

This morning I held on tight to the fading pull of my dream, wanting to absorb every last second of the memory of that feeling I had.  When I finally gave in and woke up, the illusion was gone, and I was in my big bed, alone, the same way I have woken up for nearly all of the mornings for over two years. 

Whenever I do find someone again, whenever I do get lucky enough or brave enough or ready enough to have that in my life again, I will appreciate it so much more than I ever did before.  I will know the weight of it and the power of it and the fierce sting of its absence.