Saturday's dream
I am thinking that if anyone who doesn't know me or has never met me ever randomly stumbles on here and reads this is going to think I'm dream obsessed. I'm not. I just basically flit from one obsession to another. Currently it's the dream thing. I think it stems from the general amusement I feel over the novelty of actually remembering them at all.I am not going to do the obsessive italics thing because it's been so long that I don't really remember much. I'm telling you about it at all because I like that I remember, and it was an extremely realistic dream.
I woke up Sunday, sans alarm clock, after dreaming that I'd had a baby. Not the whole labor part, but that was somehow a memory that I had in my dream. Did you know you could dream yourself with a memory? Because I didn't and I find it a little strange. Ok, so I'm a Mom. And I think it may have been a boy but I don't really remember, that wasn't important. I had the baby and it was so tiny, like my little angel niece on the day she was born. All scrunched up into a cute little ball of baby, hugging itself into my chest. And I loved my baby more than I'd ever loved anything in my life, with more than my life. There wasn't a Dad, by which I mean it had a Dad, he just wasn't part of the story for whatever reason and I don't know who he was either (instead of some dreams where you know who it is even if that person doesn't actually make an appearance?). Then the baby was gone. Stolen. Someone took my baby and it was horrible. I spent what felt like eternity looking for my baby and woke up still trying to find it. I remember feeling, how could someone be so horrible and cruel and wrong and mean to take away my love? And it was so real. I felt the missing and longing when I woke up in my chest, in my heart and it was terrible.
For a minute or two I believed it was real and not a dream.
posted by Ali @ 7:32 PM
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