When I was little, I had a dream that was so real. I was in first grade. (Amazing that I still remember it.) I had a crush on a boy named Brian Crowder. In my dream, we got married and after we kissed, he told me to call him Bruce. I remember going to school and trying to tell him that we were married because I dreamed we were and that he told me to call him Bruce.
A few years later, I dreamed that I had a baby ( a real one) and it was no bigger than my thumb. Then, on my way to school, I lost it in the car. I was frantically looking for my baby, underneath the seats and near the steering wheel.
After I had both of my daughters, I dreamed about having another baby. I don’t know whether I had adopted her or if she was a child that I had given birth to. But, I remember to this day, what she looks like. She felt like mine. In fact, it may have been a dream but I woke up missing her, longing to hold her once again.
As I got older, I realized that my dreams were often creative explosions or meltdowns after a long hard day of play or work. Sometimes, they seemed so real that I’d wake up crying. Other times, I’d laugh in my sleep and then wake up, still laughing.
Now my dreams have become more profound at times – other times, bizarre. In some of the dreams, I’m watching as if I’m a viewer, watching the events take place – not participating. Other times, I’m the “main star” of my dream. In my dreams, I’m writing a song, to wake up and not remember the words nor the melody. In other dreams, I’m fighting for my life, defending it to the very end, when instead of dying, I wake up.
I’m not much for interpreting dreams. I know that there may be meanings behind them but maybe it’s not for me to figure out. For instance, I have dreamed (dreamt (although I would rather not refer to it as past tense) that I couldn’t find my car in the parking lot. I dream this over and over. Sometimes, I’m laughing at the shear stupidity and other times, I’m frantic and ready to call the police and report it stolen.
I think that dreams are wishes that are waiting to be born (the good ones, that is). Other times, dreams are failures, disappointments and fears.
What do you dream? Has it come true?