My Past. My Dreams.

For the last couple months, my distant past has been visiting me in my dreams. The details are so vivid, it feels as though my past still lives with me, still moves with me, but without the sting. I can touch my past. The dreams are comforting, as if we’ve resolved all the unresolved. If I saw my past in an airport, it would be familiar and pleasant, as if the history of hurt had been worked through between the time I began to fall asleep and 6:30 the next morning.

I wish I was an expert in dream analysis. If I was, I’d tell myself that my past and present are reconciling their differences in another realm. I’m sure that we are meeting in my dreams so we don’t have to muck about with hashing and rehashing when the crash happens. I’m convinced my dreams have meaning and eventually my past and I will come crashing together in the present already having done the work of reconciling.

It is also very possible that my present has no need to meet my past in an airport, dreams are sufficient. It may be letting me know that there’s nothing more to say or do; the work is already done and all happened as it should for all involved. It’s time to be ok with all of it because look, look at all that is the present.

It’s true. I have so much to be thankful for. My dreams too.