DREAMS…

…Are so weird sometimes, am I right? If you’re anything like me, and you are a very vivid dreamer, your dreams can affect how you wake up each day. For me, they do.

For example, this morning I complained to my husband that last night, a good friend of mine kissed me on the lips in my dream. My sweet hubs chuckled at me, but I know he understood why I was a little perturbed over it.

In the dream, I kissed the guy back, tentatively but willingly. In real life, the moment he got an inch from my face, I would deck him. I love the guy like a brother, but NOOOOPE. Ain’t gonna happen. So why was I frustrated over the dream?

Because it elicited feelings inside me that I know I don’t have for this person (don’t worry, it’s probably not you). My dreams are usually vivid, colorful, emotional, and–to go along with my personality–a bit dramatic and fantastical. So it’s no wonder that when I wake up, the feelings from the dream often carry over.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve woken up from a dream in which I had telekinetic powers, reaching out and expecting my water bottle or phone to fly into my hand with my mind powers. But then I remember it was just a dream and I have to swallow that disappointed feeling from realizing–AGAIN–that I’m not a superhero. Bummer.

To go along with that idea, many times in my dreams, I know somehow that I’m special person with wondrous powers. I leap into the air in a crowd of people and fly Superman-style into the sky, leaving the gasps of awe behind as I fly as high as I can go. Waking up from those dreams is so phooey.

Flying and telekinesis are two common themes in my dreams. I’m a daydreamer, so it doesn’t surprise me. What does surprise me is that not everyone else dreams the same way I do. I’ve had friends and family tell me about their dreams- normal life-type ones that have normal worries or anxieties. Stuck in an endless line at the bank, doing housework, going to school, etc.

Oh my goodness. I think God knew that if I had normal life dreams like that, I would DIE of boredom in my sleep. What would that look like on my tombstone? Maybe that’s why some people die in their sleep with no scientific reason or evidence? Not to make light of the situation for others to whom it’s happened, but if that’s the case, I feel for them. How sad.

One thing I’ve been blessed with in my dreams is that I rarely (if ever) have nightmares. I’ve never been chased by an axe-wielding clown, never been trying to swim away from sharks. Never had dark dreams that wake me in the night, moaning and sweating. My husband does every once in a while. His moaning jolts me right out of sleep, and I do my best to quickly wake him from the night terror. He’s usually pretty grateful. Then we get to cuddle, always a bonus.

The only dreams which I would consider nightmares are the ones in which my husband decides he doesn’t love me anymore and shows blatant indifference to my cries, pleading, and begging. Ugh. Me no likey those ones. But then I wake up and schmooze up next to him, and all is right with the world again. So I’m grateful that I don’t have nightmares in the traditional sense.

Back to my original thought. Whenever I have romantic dreams about another man, I wake up with a miasma of false “feels” for that particular person, and it can last a while. I try to forget the dream as soon as possible and it always fades with time.

One of these days, though, I’d really like to wake up and still be able to float objects across the room to myself. Or jump into the air in a crowd of astonished onlookers.

For now, I’m glad I at least have the dreams.

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