Dream Come True

Last night, I dreamed I was at a coworker’s house. She does live in the country, but in my dream, her house backed up to a beautiful, golden field of wheat. The sun was shining as a worker groomed the field. Then a second person showed up and started setting up white chairs. Suddenly, my throat tightened up. I asked Megan what was going on. She informed me that there was going to be a wedding in her backyard, and that she was sorry. I ran across her porch, terrified. When I turned around, I saw my ex at the other end of Megan’s house, dressed in a tuxedo. I ran around the corner before he could see me, and ran into a few of my sorority sisters. What was going on? Why were they there? Why was everyone betraying me?

Then I was across a creek from the house. There was a child floating down the creek, and I was afraid that the child was not okay. Some men in tuxes – I’m guessing groomsmen – rushed toward the child. I turned back to the house and screamed. “Don’t you see this is not okay? Don’t you see this isn’t what’s supposed to happen?” A crowd of people in dresses and suits turned their back to me and moved toward an altar.

I have vivid dreams fairy often, especially around times when there are big changes coming up in my life. However, this is the first dream that has turned out to be true once I woke up. Well, not the child in the creek, and not the betrayal by Megan and my friends. But still, I could hardly believe it when I learned I had dreamed part of it correctly.

I know some people are tired of hearing about this. If that’s you, then I advise you to stop reading.

I know it’s hard to understand how this can still affect me so deeply, considering all the good things I have in my life right now. Believe me, I’m still excited about them. Somehow these two parts of my life – past and present – are not mutually exclusive.

I know I have to let go and move on. I’m trying.

I know that everyone has pain, and that the pain is supposed to get better over time. But in moments like this, it still feels fresh.

I know he’s not the man I married anymore. But that doesn’t make me miss him, or his family, or his friends any less. It doesn’t cool the burn of my memories.

I knew this was coming. I didn’t want to know when, because I couldn’t face it. And I’ll be honest; I was hoping it wouldn’t happen. Maybe that makes me a terrible person.

Every time I end up in this place, I feel like a failure all over again. I look back at the choices I’ve made and wish desperately that I could change them. When you get married, God makes two into one. When you get divorced, there’s no clean break, because you’re ripping two halves apart. Some experts say you can’t really get divorced in God’s eyes, but that you remain married anyway. Every time I think seriously about moving forward with someone else, part of me feels ashamed and dirty. I’ll never understand how he was able to get past all of this so quickly.

I know I should be clinging to God tonight. But I have to think there’s a reason this happened on a weekend when I’m alone. So if you don’t hear from me again for a couple of days, just know that I’m doing the best I can.