Dream Theme

Last night, I had a dream about my childhood friends. I was at Michael Vandal's lake cabin with my friends Katelyn, Adam and Marla. We were doing lakey things like skiing and swimming and what-not. Katelyn was going to take me skiing, so she was setting up the boat. It was going to be the last ski of the season which is usually really warm, but for some reason, this time, it was really cold. Suddenly, the lake started flooding several inches a minute. The boat Katelyn was preparing tipped over! There was no choice but to start a rescue mission for her. The lake had two life-yachts tucked away around the lake, and one of the locations of the boats was Michael's cabin! So I navigated the boat a little. I picked up these two old ladies who were hanging out in the water in lounge chair floaties. The last thing I remember was thinking, "I should probably pick up some people who will be useful to me on this mission."

It's the strangest thing, though. I have had several dreams where Michael Vandal is a major part of the dream since graduating from high school. No big deal, right, but the kicker is that we were never really close friends. I dream about him more than any of my other classmates, except for Katelyn with whom I am still very close.

I don't remember having a huge crush on him or thinking about him a lot. We talked once in a while, but not any more than any of my other classmates. I have one significant memory of him from high school, but it's not anything that special. I had decided to quit basketball, and it was a major decision for me. We had a serious conversation about that. I don't even remember what we said. He might've said, "I think you're making a mistake." I might've tried to explain my decision. He might've listened. Normal stuff. It was significant to me, because I was having a really hard time with that decision. Somehow, he helped me a little bit...I think.

They're not racy dreams, either. Normal, everyday stuff. I had one once that we were sort of flirting and I wanted to show off for him. We took a bike ride, and I rode my bike right off of a cliff. I remember falling into the abyss and thinking, "Well, that was a dumb move." In another one, I was swimming in the ocean, and there was this polar bear that was swimming with me, and then a big boat came by, and I think he was on the boat with Jenna Milbrath.

But this morning, I was thinking about Michael Vandal - really analyzing why he would be in so many dreams. I think he might have been the very first boy I ever liked. I forgot about it, though, because it was in kindergarten. I remember saying stuff like, "I love you so much, I'm going to kiss you!" And then I did on the top of his head. He had a buzz cut and I liked that. I still like that, actually. I remember the kindergarten thing to do was to tell each other how much we loved each other with our hands, sort of like our love was a fish we just caught. "I love you thiiiiiiis much." And I remember that I told Michael that I loved him so much that the backs of my hands were touching behind me...which I totally can't do now. I wonder if that's a warped memory.

Now that I think further, I think he was the first boy that ever told me he liked me, and then said he hated me. I don't remember what happened, but I do have that vague memory. So maybe he's been stuck in my dream world, because early on, he was set in my subconscious maze as some sort of symbolic pillar. That must be it. Right?

but i'm lois lane

I walked into a grocery store with a group of friends, and a little boy of about twelve or fourteen was standing in the door facing me directly. He held a gun pointed at me saying he'd shoot.
"Don't do that; you don't want to do that." My calm surprised me, almost as an observer, as I gently and easily walked toward him as though there was no danger between him and me.
I think I must've been between sleeping and being awake, because the dream has a couple of endings. The next thing I remember was holding his face in my hands and kissing him the way his mother or his grandma would and giving him the most tender hug you can imagine. And he started crying with shaking heaves. I remember thinking about how I didn't know him a second ago, but now I knew everything about him that was important. And that's all he wanted the whole time. I knew that he was desperately afraid. And I knew that he needed love. And I knew that he wanted to be heard and known. And I heard him, and I knew him.
The other ending was that I came toward him, and like one too brave for the moment swept away the gun, only to have the boy shot in his own foot before the gun was gotten away. And somehow, he was in the hospital with sepsis from this gunshot wound. And there was only one thing to do, because he was going to die. At this point, I was a guy. I don't know how or when that happened, but I was definitely a man. Maybe it's because subconsciously, I can't handle the idea of a girl walking alone in a city looking for a homeless guy. I walked and walked through the city, over bridges, and I asked for his dad. And I found him. He looked just like the homeless guy in The Ultimate Gift. And I told him that his son was dying and took him to his son. The nurse asked him if he was the father; there were decisions that needed to be made. And the man said, "I'm no more this boy's father than this guy is," pointing to me.

And that's all I remember. But later that day, the washing machine made a loud noise, and I remembered my dream. I hoped nobody'd been shot and that I wouldn't have to play the hero. But I was okay with having to. Afterall, I practiced this morning.

In other news, I wish I could take that man up there out for a beer and a nice meal. And I wish I could just switch to a man for certain occasions like in my dream. Then I definitely wouldn't get married. I could be my own protector like Superman. Don't mess with Clark Kent; that's all I have to say.