dreams

I am the one in our relationship who have weird dreams.  Perhaps my husband has them as well, but he usually forgets his dreams.  His blur into an incomprehensible mess whereas mine are often vivid, demanding to be remembered.  Yesterday I dreamed of a boy I knew and yet, who was a near total stranger.  I was a good friend of this boy’s brother.  But in the time span of seven years of being next door neighbors, I had never really talked to him.  If I would dream of someone from that household, it would and should have been his brother, whom I saw every day and played with whenever I was free of homework or housework responsibility.  The contents of the dream were bizzarely sexual.  We were running away together and his flesh was often bare.  We were both man and child, knowing and ignorant.  When I woke up I remember certain details.  Then the day progresses and I became proccupied with dirty dishes, a misplaced pair of glasses and overdue library journals.  So now, as I sit to write before my husband comes home, the dream is slowly evaporating from my memory.

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