Amidst last night’s tossing and turning, and obviously, ending up in a very bad position that has my arm feeling like I popped my shoulder out of my rotator cuff i experienced a pretty strange, vivid dream. Thankfully it wasn’t the kind that I’ve been used to lately.
There was some kind of a crisis outside of a friends building – there was a rally of police cars, fire trucks… something was going down and I happened to be there at my friends house for a get together. When everything died down, we went back upstairs to the apartment party where everyone was sitting around wherever they needed to – living room, kitchen, bedrooms… whatever. I chose to sit on the corner of her bed along with a group of people who sat around the room, on the floor, in chairs and what not watching tv and chatting. I was on the bed playing with my friends baby daughter and ultimately ended up changing her right there (odd – I know). The vibe of the party was this uuber conscious “granola” crowd – a lot of blacks who were fully aware of their “roots” – traced their ancestry back to the countries in Africa, cut off their processed hair and wore clothing weaved of hemp (it’s extreme, but you see them at all the Erykah Badu concerts – drum that up in your mind). And I guess – it’s now not too far of a stretch of the imagination that I was one of them.
So I’m changing this sweet baby girl – not out of anything that would overload the room – but I think I was changing her clothes. And I hear a relatively deep voice from behind me on the bed say softly, “S’ak Passe, cherie m’wen?” (which in creole means – what’s happening my sweet?). So I turn around and laid across the other side of the bed propped up on one arm is this very attractive, very familiar looking man. Light skinned. Tall. Head full of brown curlies, clean shaven, hazel eyes, wicked smile and SWAG… just oozing out of him. I feel like I’ve seen him before… on TV. But in the dream I’m pretty sure he’s a bball player. I respond to him shyly “N’ap kembe.. piti piti.” (which is the equivalent of “hanging in there”). He’s chatting with me for a little while but the whole time he’s talking to me… I could FEEL that he’d locked in on me. I was the subject of his interest and the rest of the world disappeared. He was completely enthralled with me and it felt… amazing. Even through a dream — to have someone think so much of me that I deserved their full attention. Our conversation began to have to wind down because I believe I had to go. In the dream it seems I’m very much still someone else’s girl. “When can I see you again… or talk to you again…?” he asked – being very respectful of my personal space but somehow yet still getting close enough to let me feel his interest. I shrugged and said… I’m not sure…. I smiled shyly again and he ran his hand down the length of my arms and when he got to my hands he looked at them and said… “you have such small hands – they’re beautiful”… And I was about to protest… because the entire monde entiere KNOWS i hate my hands (and feet) because of how very big they are – inherited from my 6? 5” father… But I looked at my hand in the expanse of his… BBALL Player… and yeah. They were small in comparison. I glanced at my bberry and announced that I had to go. I reached up to hug him and left. By the time I got in the car I was chatting with some other girlfriends and I heard a BBM message come through. And it was him. I read the screen clearly (which is nearly impossible in a dream… but I managed to read AND remember his name) “Corey Cleophat: Thank you for giving me the chance to meet you. You’re amazing and beautiful and I can’t wait to chat with you again” And I swooned, because i didn’t give him my BBM name so he had to have tried to figure it out or ask someone, but the chase was beginning… he wasn’t going to let me go that quickly.
Then woke up.
So this is a very different kind of swooning in comparison to the swooning I had with my chocolate doctor dream. That dream was creepy moreso because I knew and felt it in my being that I belonged with that doctor man. He was THE PERFECT one… And beyond all sensations, I really knew that we were beyond kindred or star-crossed… just … destined. With this guy… it was just… so good to be pursued and genuinely wanted. And I’ve been wondering lately – when does that go away? The desire to still be found attractive and worthy of chase. I would think that after marriage beyond it being unnecessary – It can be misconstrued as displeasure or discontent in the current decision. I’m not displeased or discontent in my marriage — however, I wonder if anyone else in the world finds me attractive at all because at this point in life it feels like just the hubby. And that SHOULD be enough. I just wonder how powerful those little bands I put on in the morning are. Like a cloak of invisibility to the opposite sex. They can’t even SEE me to comment on me. It feels a little like disappearing.
But it was good to feel like a genuine article of desire even though it was all in my mind.