Aight.....

okay folks, everything in italics is editing or added comments. I just figured I should let y'all know, now that I'm actually a little more awake, my take on the situation.

In all actuallity, I'm not going to "edit" the stuff, I'm just going to try and explain it a little better.

Preston, I gave you my interpretation of your dreams... I want your perspective on mine. *chuckles*

And I want comments from all y'all others too...

I very, very rarely dream. And this one is fading as I sit here and write. It's fucked up, folks. But anyway, the gist...

The first part of the dream was fairly... well, "normal" because it was average human stuff. The second part of the dream is largely due to my seeing Mission Impossible 2 on Thursday.

First part... I'm leaving/moving out of a place that kinda looks like my Grandmother's house... sorta... her kitchen in an anonymous apartment... (I think this part is due to HepCat's past diary entries where he talks about "Jamie" (I think I got the spelling right... my brain is still foggy, and my eyes are still half closed with sleep) moving out of their "flat" thus the anonymous apartment.

Anyway, it was me moving out, taking all sorts of candies and baked goods and shit and taking them with me because no one liked me there and I couldn't handle that.. I was leaving because I'd finally gotten enough money or whatever, to be able to leave. Cause I really don't like it when people hate me. So I tend to fade out of their lives. If they don't want to be near me, I'm not going to "infect" them with my presence.

When I was a kid in grade school, there were two girls who would actually talk to me. Once in a great while. They would talk to me and play with me if no one else were around. If other kids or teachers/parents came within sight, both of these girls would say, "here come the other kids, I'm gonna pretend I hate you now" I remember those words very, very clearly.

From that experience, I learned to stay out of sight. To stay out of the way and make damned sure no one was bothered by me.

There was a point in my history where my Father overreacted to a situation (I believe I've already talked about it many times) and one of the things he told me, as wer were going to the home of family friends, "You're staying in the car. I don't want you to infect MY FRIEND's children with your evil."

*smiles softly* Such things happen in our lives, we live. But the point is this... It is imperitive to me, even now, at nearly 30 years old, almost 20 years after the fact, that if anyone is displeased with me, I will do everything I can to slip out of their life. I hate being a burden to someone. I really hate it.

The moving out in the dream, was that reaction, knowing that someone didn't want me there, knowing that finally I had the ability to leave so that I wouldn't offend or irritate anyone else anymore.

Anyway, I digress... I believe I know exactly what that is about. The "strange" part of that was taking all the sugary and fattening stuff. As if I had been denied it for a long time and since I was leaving, maybe they wouldn't mind paying that price for my leaving them alone.

The thing about the sweet and fattening foods is, in my opinion, my own subconscious telling me that I have been living with a "knowledge" that I'm not supposed to eat sweet or fattening foods, that they're not allowed. So when I left, I stole them, snuck away with them without permission.

It's my opinion that this is my subconscious telling me that instead of feeling compelled, I have to make choices... I have to actually choose whether or not I'm gonna eat whatever it is I want to... I have to admit it. Announce it. And anyone who harrasses me about it, fuck em.

Now, that may seem like a cold thing to say, but tough shit. I have lived a large portion of my life feeling humiliated and disgusted with myself because of my size... I've never previously been willing to admit to myself that I actually do have an eating problem. I don't sneak fattening foods all that often, but I also don't eat much. Generally one meal a day. That's as much an eating problem as someone who eats too much. Also, what I eat matters far more than how much of it I eat. *chuckles*

Amazing how much weight I put in my dreams, eh?

Regardless.....

The second part of the dream... it morphed into my "husband" and I leaving. He was a nameless figure. A faceless figure. --He didn't have a face that I could recognize. I never saw it. He was just a character... an impression-- But my car was packed and all was in order when my "husband" says we have to go, now... all urgent and MI-like.

We take off and suddenly we're in this fuckered up "third world country" checking into a hotel... a fancy one... as a couple, but we meet up with two more people there (as our team???"

my "husband" does some very Duncan-esque stuff at the check in counter which was irritating, but only mildly, like one of those personal quirks that doesn't hurt anybody, but usually is responded to with laughter and rolled eyes and the thought "there he goes again"...

He bought some "pull tabs" some of you might not know what those are, but they're similar to lottery tickets. Kinda like paying a quarter for a piece of paper which will indicate whether you won or not. It's just a form of gambling. Well, he's done this before... bitching about the fact that he didn't get a winner, then trying to say it was the girl's fault. *chuckles* It's harmless, and just mildly irritating, but it showed up in the dream. One of the reasons I identified the figure as my ex

So, we "get" (one of those magical transportations in a dream) to the room and I'm about to grab a shower, but my "husband" pushes me against the shower, turns on the cold water first, but keeps me pinned in the shower, then turns on the hot to mellow it out (that's from a story Russell wrote... directly)

It was that whole, trying to be sexual, spontinaity thing

Then the "husband" starts grabbing me in a clumsy 'I don't know if this will turn you on, but it works in the movies' kind of way and I stop him feeling like "even on vacation he's unintentionally rough and totally unromantic and doesn't know anything about turning me on".

Another main indicator that this "figure" was my ex. Duncan was always a really nice guy... he's kind and sweet, he's just not too bright. He hasn't the foggiest idea what really turns me on, or would have, and I didn't have even half the guts or knowledge to tell him.

That's why I think the "husband" was so Duncan-esque. He didn't know the foggiest thing about foreplay.

Anyway, I stopped him, in the dream, and said that he had to be gentle and soft. That he had to caress my body... that I wanted him to "make love" to me, not just fuck. That's something Duncan never did. He never "made love" Not even passionate love. He just fucked. Like I was just the physical embodiment of the fuck mags. A sentient blow up doll who gave great head.

That hurts more than it has a right to.

ANyway... on with the dream... the real MI part.

then we jump to a scene where (this is the real MI part) my "husband" (who is a different figure now) is "captured" by the bad guys, along with our two team members and the real objective... the real one we need to save. They're being marched up a set of stairs in shorts, nothing else (that's fuckered up) and in comes me, the heroine, with a hand gun in my pocket (WTF?!!!) which I pull out, kill all the badguys (four of em, I think) with smart double-taps to the head....

it was a .44 semi-auto, I think. I didn't get a really good look at it, and I've never held a .44 semi-auto, so I know know if the dream feel was right or whatever, but it was bigger than a Barretta tho the basic, over-all look was similar. In bluing, not chrome

I lead the objective, "husband" and two other team members from the place, but the "husband" get's shot... I grab him, and carry him, cradle-like, into the hotel and relative safety where I scream and threaten the counter girl for a doctor...

As I'm standing there, holding my bleeding/dying/dead "husband" the counter girl places a message for me on the counter... it starts in the "husband's" voice but I only get like two sentances into it before the outside world cuts off the dream.... I remember looking at the Objective's face as the "husband's" words are rolling into my ears, and feeling this tremendous sense of loss -- not that I was losing HIM, but a sense of loss more for having lost a team member. Having not been fast enough or good enough to have saved him. It was a sense that because I failed in something, this person (perhaps the dream interpretation means an ideal rather than person) died. I truly failed him. Completely and undeniably -- and yet, feeling the "knowledge" that this loss has to happen in order for me to move on and become better in my life. --in order for me to move on with life. In order to avoid stagnating. The loss of this ideal/person was necessary before the next step could be taken. Like Raven's quote, "One doesn't discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore." ---Andre Gide...

The dream ends there.... no real closure.... just the knowledge of my waking self, telling me that I should have stayed asleep a little longer to hear this piece of advice... this instruction.

See, in the past, I've gotten quite a few epiphany-esque revelations as per my life and the way I live it, through a dream representation of my ex. Even tho I didn't actually get to hear the "message"... I just have this overwhelming feeling that perhaps my subconscious is telling me some important piece of information... and I just... missed it. I woke up about 40 seconds too soon.

I would really like your points of view, your thoughts and ideas on the subject. I think other perspectives are extremely important in the way I live my life. So... if you have any ideas, I would dearly love to hear them. Sometimes all you need is to have a different view point before all things become clear.

*frowns, shaking her head*

This is a tough one for me.

Not once did the "husband" actually look like Duncan. But he acted like him... especially where the sexual shit was... (don't get me wrong, there was no sex in the dream, just the intimation that there was going to be)

And, just for those of you who are curious... I have never, ever, in my entire life, had a sexual dream. Not that I can remember anyway. Never. Not when I was 10, not 15, not 20, not 25 and not now, when I'm almost 30.

I've never had a wet dream, either. And I say that becuase I've never awakened to wet sheets or anything.

And, I guess this is the part I'm asking about...

I've gotten a few choice "morsels" of advice from my ex in dreams like this. A year or so ago my ex "told" me that I was affraid of love. That I was affraid to love.

He was right. and I have since changed my perspective. I am no longer afraid of/to love. I still don't like the pain that comes with it sometimes, but it's a choice... I can feel the pain, or I can minimize the pain by focusing on the lessons learned.

But... I have this notion that I was going to get another nugget.. another epiphany from this dream in the "husband's" voice. That I was going to be told he wasn't really my husband, he was just acting the part so that we could get to the real objective which is this person "I" rescued.

*shakes her head*

I don't know.

I'd like your take on it. And I'll probably erase this and/or edit it some to clean it up, but I'm still a little sleep fogged and I have to let the pup out, and go to the bathroom my self... so I'm gonna close this for now.

Um....

*frowns slightly*

Yeah, I guess that's it for now.

I'll talk more about this in a little bit.

peace unto thy hearts.

J...