This was quite an interesting dream
I was me, and my dream spanned over my entire life. It was really almost as if this was a memory which I’d forgotten, and then at the end, retribution for my forgetting.
I dreamt that, as a little girl, I was very powerfully empathic and had that quintessentially “good” feminine nature. Which is to say, I felt deeply, was compassionate and loving, and had a high sense of self worth that repelled negative bullying types.
So I was playing with another boy who, as an intelligent boy with a lot of that mental ability but very little in the physical presence, also repelled the very oppressive physical type of boys-and girls. So we became friends and, over time, had adventures.
When we were in our teens, maybe, we had a grand adventure. Really the adventure was his, as he had the mental capacity and ability to have knowledge and intelligence about computers, systems, and technology. Where I, on the other hand, was there in a rather helpmate capacity. It’s not to say that hadn’t I been there, he would have been able to adventure on his own. It was very much a team of two- “it takes two to tango” situation where he took on the tasks of performing while I held the emotional and energetic space for him to do it.
Well our adventure consisted of building an underground bunker, equipping it with all sorts of tech that was undiscoverable either by physical or electronic means, and hacking into evil corporations that wanted to do something really terrible to us. And, against all odds, we were successful. The boy went on to become famous for his heroics whereas I remained very much invisible. This didn’t bother me. Not in the least-rather I was appreciative of the opportunity to experience all the adventures and be in the presence of someone so obviously talented.
A LONG TIME LATER. Now, when I am me, at this age, I received an invitation to some sort of dinner, from the name that I recognized to be this man from so long ago. I decide to go. I drive about 3 hours and, although it isn’t planned, I stop into the underground bunker house that we’d made to check it out. It was rotting and dilapidated, but still there. In the dream, I had a flashback memory of him opening the door a specific way- it required a tool. There was a facade on the door that looked like a keyhole. This was turned aside and the tool was what opened the door. Now, though, the door was ajar and leaves and dirt piled in the threshold. I pushed it open, feeling the punky rotted wood sponge under my hand. It looked, and smelled, like an old shed that raccoons had taken over about 10 years ago. I walked in, looking at the little table with booths on either side, sensed rather than saw the countertop on which computers, cords, monitors and tech used to sit; now in the dark and covered with dirt, feces, walnut shells. I noticed that the door leading down to the deeper tunnel was closed shut. It looked like it hadn’t been opened in years, if not since the last time we’d been there, as kids.
Suddenly I sensed someone behind me and turned to see him standing in the open door. He looked taller, stronger, supremely confident, and oddly didn’t seem older at all. He smiled at me as if to say the same about me. “My dear,” he said in a soft, almost reverent voice. “I didn’t expect to find you here....” He held out his hand as if to take mine and escort me, so I gave it to him. He led me out and to a very nice little car, where he opened the door for me. “You look stunning,” he commented, almost as an offhand remark. I smiled, but we both knew neither of us were the kind to take any kind of social status seriously. It was there. It didn’t mean much.
He drove us to the dinner. I didn’t talk much, but I never did. “You haven’t changed a bit,” he told me as we entered the drive. It was the most serious thing he’d said. The whole ride had an undercurrent of strain-like he was holding on to some very difficult emotion that he could not reveal. His demeanor was very pleasant and entertaining, however. Friendly, glib, and comedic. Like a politician. I marveled at the change in him.
He escorted me to a table in the restaurant- quite an extravagant, fancy affair. To my dismay, I noticed that the table was very long, and nearly packed except for two seat at the end. He took the end seat while I sat at the corner, just to his right. I noticed that everyone there, while well-dressed in suits and tuxedoes, were very young. I sat uncomfortably, but without complaint, next to a very young man and across from two other young men. They looked to be teenagers.
My escort and childhood friend ordered off of the menu for us both, and then mysteriously excused himself. I watched him walk away with such a strong feeling of complete sadness. I felt so desolate, sitting there as he walked away. Somehow, I knew he would not come back.
Indeed, he didn’t come back. The young man to my right turned to me after some raucous laughter with his friends and said, “but you, you’re quite a bit older, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” I said, not bothering to look at him. “I am almost forty.”
“Well I’m twenty!” he said enthusiastically.
I thought of my children at home and wondered why I was here.
Just as I thought this, it got worse. Monitors came on and, as the young people all cheered, a video series began. The background music to it made it seem like a comic, but the images were disgusting. I felt horror and disgust as I watched and this was belied by the uproarious laughter of all the young people around me.
I looked away, and observed the goings-on instead, finding relief in simply being in the moment. I noticed that there was a high balcony around the sitting area of the restaurant- and that it had a high vaulted ceiling with many ornate glass chandeliers hanging. On the balcony, I thought I spotted my escort and would-be friend, just as he turned and walked away from looking over the railing down into the seating area.
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