Wednesday, June 15, 2016

Dream girl

One would hope that dreaming of one’s significant other would be a pleasant experience. That having your companion join you in your dream state would be a neat way for the two of you to connect and bond. Sure, you’re not actually sharing the dream but you can certainly talk about together in the morning.

I remember when my wife, Danica, and I first started dating, I didn’t dream about her. I kinda felt bad about this. I missed her when she wasn’t with me, I thought that maybe seeing her in my dreams would be a nice compromise until I could see her again in person. And if the dream happened to have a certain amorous nature, all the better.

Eventually, I did start to dream about Dani but those dreams were not pleasant at all. In my dreams, Danica—who is normally very open and communicative with me—would give me the silent treatment. I could sense that something was wrong but when I asked her to talk to make and tell me what was the matter, she would just ignore me. Few things are more painful for me to experience than to be ignored by someone that I care about (especially when something is wrong and I’m pretty sure that talking it out would at least clear the air if not solve the problem).

I was very disappointed that dreaming about the woman that I love seemed to be a negative experience. When I awoke, I told Danica about my dreams about “her” but I was also sure to tell her that I knew that the woman in my dreams (as I slept) was not the same person as the woman of my dreams (with whom I share my life). Needless to say, Dani was kind of distraught at the thought of me having bad dreams about her. As the dreams continued and dream-Danica, who I took to calling “Mean-Danica,” would mistreat me, I always reminded myself as soon as I woke up that the real Danica isn’t like that at all. My Danica isn’t mean. She’s sweet, kind, supportive and loving!

The night before I started writing this post, I had another dream about Mean-Danica. It started out pleasantly but as the dream progressed, we made our way through some sort of party and as we left and got into our car, she said something to the effect that she enjoyed making herself available to other party goers. She didn’t go into much detail about what that meant but I got the feeling that it wasn’t just making polite conversation (but it didn’t go so far that any clothing needed to be removed). Regardless, hearing her say this made me very uncomfortable and anxious. I told her that we needed to talk about it and perhaps establish some clear boundaries that I had assumed were already just there based on the fact that we’re married.

Mean-Danica slowly turned her head toward me and with this look of annoyance and condescension, gradually raised her hand between us, the back toward me, and extended her middle finger.

When I woke up, I told Dani that I had a run-in with Mean-Danica again.

“I don’t like Mean-Danica,” my wife stated.

I then shared a realization with her, “Mean-Danica does have a purpose.”

“What could that be?”

“She’s there to remind me of how wonderful the real Danica is.”