I Am Lucid Dreaming About A Man I Went On Three Dates With


I’ve been having this recurring dream about a guy I’ve been on three or four dates with.

In the dream, we are together. In the dream, we are soul mates, and it is very clear to everyone, including myself. In the dream, he looks different. He looks a like a combination of the last three men I slept with. At different points throughout the dream, he takes on the face of one of these men, but I am always aware that it is him. In the dream, it doesn’t seem to bother me that he has the face of someone I wasted a few months on.

Beard, no beard, beard, mustache, no beard.

In the dream, we have just met and simultaneously known each other for years. We meet in an obvious place like a bar or a coffee shop but within minutes we are talking about our childhoods, slowly but surely repeating what the other is saying until we are speaking in unison. Before I know it, I am recounting his stories before he can get them out of his lips. I am telling him his past and he nods along, as if he never heard it until it came out of my mouth. We drink coffee out of giant mugs and it always stays hot.

In the dream, we hold hands. Our fingers intertwine but slowly melt into one another and a girl he used to date walks up and tells me that she thinks he and I are meant for each other. Throughout, we lie in bed and he holds me. Each time, his body gets bigger and bigger, enveloping me. At different points I am tiny, like a doll, and he is a giant. We talk about our futures and our siblings and our jobs. We connect in such a way that dream-me feels real, gut wrenching pain when we are apart in dreamland. He leaves for a few hours — mere seconds when awake — and I sit by the window and cry until he returns. As I cry, the sky gets dark and turns into stained glass. It starts raining. My tears become part of the rain and the room fills up with water. I am left gasping for air. My mouth tilts toward the sky and on my final breath, he returns. I stop crying and the water spins around me toward a large drain in the middle of the floor. The sun comes out and cartoon birds fly around us. One lands on my finger as he kisses my cheek.

In the dream, he is very aggressive, like me. He is possessive and it is incredibly sexy. I am matched. I am his, he is mine, we are each other’s. In the dream, he says things that I want to hear — that I didn’t know I wanted to hear — and when I wake up, I cannot remember what they were.

In the dream, we travel quickly between countries, conquering vast amounts of land in minutes. We go to Paris and Morocco and Israel. We wear fur in Russia and I finally get to see the Northern Lights (a lifelong dream that he has fulfilled). In the dream, I am a little bit thinner, but he doesn’t even notice. He has a little more money, but we don’t seem to spend any of it.

In the dream we drive to places that I have visited before — with other people — that now seem distant and unreal.

We visit the Maine coast and knock on the doors of houses of people we do not know. They answer and we ask to come in to watch the water from their balconies.

We drive down the 101 to Santa Cruz and stop for milkshakes. He follows me to the gender-neutral bathrooms and pushes me inside. Hands are everywhere and suddenly my cotton shirt is obscuring my view of his eyelashes. I can feel his skin. It is warm against my skin. We kiss until the staff asks us to leave.
We drive to Ipswich in the winter and he doesn’t question the cold or my decision making. He follows me along my childhood beach as I pick up beach glass and heart shaped rocks to give to my father.w

In the dream, sadness only exists with his absence. Work is something that I do during the day to waste time until I see him at night. Friends are people I cannot wait to introduce to him. Family is something that is now complete

In real life, we go out to dinner. I text other boys while he’s in the bathroom.

In the dream, he tucks me in after dinner and slides behind me under the covers. We breathe the same air and close our eyes.

image – garryknight