Ever have a dream so good you don't want to wake up? **fixed the stuff Blogger jumbled

Ever have a dream so good you don't want to wake up? I have them often. So often I've even perfected the ability to hit the snooze button on my internal wake-up alarm. That extra few minutes to see what happens next is pretty important.


Anyways, I had a particularly good one the other night. So good I put it in one of my journals. I thumbed through all of them to find the one that had the dream log. As I browsed, I read some old entries.



Enlightening. Especially the entries about love. Yikes.


I get it now. I have spent the past couple of years on a quest for self-improvement and enlightenment. But one thing I just haven't figured out is why I sabotage, fear, and run far far away from relationships. A very close friend asked me recently why I always push men away when I start to really like them. She wouldn't let me give her an answer- at least not until I had honestly and carefully studied the issue. My immediate answer is usually a snap armchair shrink's generalization (see my earlier post on assumptions) and that doesn't count as 'honest' self-study. *hmmm 2 people pointing this out in the last week. What am I doing wrong?


My first thought was just my independence and maybe just being 'too controlling' to co-operate on such a level. I don't think I'm jaded, really... I've been hurt, but I've always recovered so what's the big deal? I am an idealist by nature and for the utter sake of the idealist's resilience, I don't think I could possibly be damaged. So what the eff is it?



The journals gave me a completely different perspective. I LOVE "standpoint epistemology" so I'm going to keep going with this, but for now here's the new thoughts:


I love in a weird way: intense, but never overwhelming. It appears to be very selfless and passionate. I think that’s why I don’t throw it out like candy at a parade. In love, I give respect, passion, and devotion... I hope I don't sound full of myself when I say it hasn't
been out of the norm to be told by an ex that they have never felt loved like they did with me. It’s just that they don’t say that until I’m gone. Ironic? Maybe. But if I reaaaaaly love someone, I make damn sure I make that man feel like King Kong. I like it that way. But lately I have been putting up walls and setting landmines. I let fears guide and hide my heart the way I did as the neighborhood champion of hide.n.seek. Gaddammit, I'm not letting anyone in! …At least not the ones that might love me right. I let in a couple of ones I knew wouldn't last. Stuff happened. I got hurt but recovered. I thought this was my demise at the time.

But now:

It boils down to only one thing:


I think I forgot something. I think I forgot to give that unconditional love. I forgot I had to trust. Pain is a must. I never feared it doing tree-climbing acrobatics, during those marathons I ran, or even those times I gave my heart: Without the bitter, the sweet would never be nearly as sweet.