Very rarely do I ever remember dreaming at night. I am certain that I do dream every night but I am even more certain that I don't remember a damn thing about them. Last night was actually an exception. I remembered not one but two dreams that I had. Perhaps they were just much more vivid than I am used to. In any case, the dreams were as such:
The first was very odd. I was in a sort of dorm room with about five beds and I was sitting on one of them. My classmates in my MFA class each occupied one of the others. In the doorway was one of our professors, Professor Potter (and it's not Harry). By the time I realized where I was in this dream (not to say I knew it was a dream) he was in the middle of explaining something to Deidre, one of my classmates. She looked angry so it couldn't have been good. When Professor Potter finished, she said "I hate you" to him just as he was leaving. Then he comes back, having heard something, and inquires what was said. Deidre says nothing. Ryan, another classmate, says "she said she hates you" in perfect Ryan fashion. Professor Potter responds angrily with, and I quote "oooooooh!" Threatening, yes? Well, to me it was a little because he never gets angry. He storms out and we all contemplate the possible consequences. End of Act I. Weird.
Dream number two was a little unsettling. It involved a girl I was somewhat involved with, whom I haven't spoken to in well over a year and a half, and she had no business being in my subconscious. That's right, lady, don't let the cerebral doorway hit you on the way out...
Anyway, I couldn't tell where we were. It was a street filled with these sort of townhouses and for some reason I thought it was New Orleans. I don't know why I thought that because I've never been there. At any rate, this girl was talking to me in a very odd way. So odd I don't even know if she was talking to me. It was more like thinking about me out loud, but I was invisible and could bear witness to these thoughts. So here I am, invisible and seemingly following someone I don't really care to follow because she is expressing that she has something important to tell me. When she finally says what it is it came across as one of the most mundane, idiotic statements I had ever heard. So mundane I don't even remember what it was. I do remember, however, that I responded with "that's it?!" But now my invisible cover was blown and she knew I was there. She tried to stop me from leaving, asking me to come out of hiding, but I simply left quickly. The end. Scary.
I still don't know what to make of these dreams. The first I have a vague idea, but not the second. The second I can only speculate. The fact of the matter was that I was very hurt by this person and in some ways I never got over that. In more ways, however, I did get over it and moved far past it. But there is always that little, microscopic element that manages to sit there and somehow remind me that it still exists. Perhaps it is meant to be a growing experience and that I will always have it with me in order to maintain the person I am today, which in the long run is a better person than before. But what I don't get is why I can't just hang on to the result on let go of the process. What is it about this one tiny element that is so hard to shake?
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