I woke up feeling semi-frazzled today thanks to my dreams. The first was of a surprise visit from Mr. First. It was really nice – at least it must have been considering the second dream.It was an outside ceremony and “Here Comes the Bride” had already begun. He was at the altar waiting for me to make my way through the crowd and where was I? Running late as always. I couldn’t find my white Chucks.
(That’s right. I’d decided on sneakers for my wedding day. And don’t think I haven’t considered that option when the real thing rolls around.)
When I was finally ready to make my way toward him, the music was over and then I woke up.
Um, ok? I didn’t wake up feeling sad or mad or…anything really. Just curious. So I looked it up:
To see a wedding in your dream, symbolizes a new beginning or transition in your current life. They reflect your issues about commitment and independence. Alternatively, your wedding dream refers to feelings of bitterness, sorrow, or death. Such dreams are often negative and highlight some anxiety or fear. If you dream that the wedding goes wrong or ends in disaster, then it suggests that there is more negativity that needs to be dealt with.
To dream that you are getting married to your ex, suggests that you have accepted aspects of that relationship and learned from those past mistakes. Alternatively, it means that a current relationship shares some commonality with your previous relationship with your ex. However, you will not make those same mistakes.
There’s been a shift over the last couple of months. I’m mostly ok if we talk and I’m mostly ok if we don’t. Little by little other things have occupied my mind. I understand more. I’ve come to accept more. Yes I’ll still trip, but I’m not falling flat on my face anymore. Funny how people have been telling me this for months and I’ve only come to see it now.
My masochistic self even pulled out the framed picture of us from my pj drawer to see if it’d trigger any emotions. The same one I’d lie in bed with and cling to those first few days wondering how we went from that to this. Only this time nothing happened. I just sat on my bedroom floor staring at what was us. I gave it a half smile and slipped it back under his old T-shirt. That’s when I realized how far I’d come.
This doesn’t mean I don’t care deeply about him. I do. In fact, I know we both still do. We worry for each other’s safety: “Please don’t walk to the club by yourself at 11:30 pm.” “Please don’t mix your allergy and flu medication.” We cheer for the other’s success and listen when the stress piles on. We keep mental notes of things the other should check out and take delight when the other likes it too.
Maybe now I’m just seeing the situation through a different set of glasses. Or maybe all those tears were just skewing my view.
Afternoons spent sobbing into my pillow in defeat have given way to trips to the park, dancing around the apartment and giggling at Toby’s antics. If singing while doing the dishes isn’t an indication of contentment then I don’t know what is.
What I do know is that today I’m happy. The close-my-eyes-as-I-walk-and-just-breathe happy. The smile-at-strangers-who-like-puppies happy. The same you’ll-be-just-fine happy I’d been trying to recreate since I came back from Cancun.As I write this I’m wearing my ex’s over-sized jacket while sitting atop the highest hill in the park with a smile on my face. So right now I’m just going to sit and take today in.
Image: sofianegronblog.com