In my dream last night, E*** kissed me.
I used to have these dreams, sex dreams, where Stephen and I would spend the whole time looking for a place to have sex. It was all tension. We would end up trying to do it in secret while people talked to us, came into the room, ate food. Tension, tension, tension.
In my dream, we were at a camp or retreat of some sort. On the third floor of a bookstore that I have visited in my dreams on multiple occasions. My ex from college was there with all his saxophone buddies. We were on a break from the class and we went outside and there were horses. I was telling him how I’ve always wanted to learn to ride a horse and he leaned in a kissed me, very lightly. Through the dream, he would come up behind me when I least expected it, wrap his big arms around me (it felt like sinking into a warm bath) and kiss me on the neck. Or steal a quick kiss. Not a “kiss your mother” kiss either. Even though it was quick, it meant something.
The second half of the dream was walking through a giant pile of suitcases at the end of the camp. And escalators that went too fast. And looking for him so I could say goodbye. And telling my mother about him and getting out the map to show her where he was from and where he lived now. But mostly there were more hugs and more kisses. Innocent almost. But promising.
And the suitcases, steamers, duffle bags. People in coats and wearing backpacks. People leaving and hugging. All people that I know or have known. And there was a small group of people not leaving. People eating and laughing and drinking. Sitting in theatre seats.
I don’t dream very often. Or, I don’t remember them enough to relay details. So this is something. I will say that