[WARNING: I REALLY AM ABOUT TO BLOG ABOUT LAST NIGHT'S DREAM]
[EDIT: This post was written on Dec. 23, though not posted until later.]
I don't know how I ended up at this farmhouse (or something) out in the country far from my family. I don't know who all those people were or why I was with them. It doesn't matter. What matters is that I met a woman. Nothing remarkable about her appearance though she was blonde and I don't think of myself as a blonde-preferer. Anyway, we hit it off---I had never known anyone quite like her before and we fell into a deep friendship, took to hanging out all the time, that sort of thing. Then the dream took a turn for the literary and behaved more like a novel than a movie. One of the snippets announced during this phase of the dream is that we, er, consummated the relationship (though this was merely mentioned and not ever shown), and later I gave her a ring, making her an honest woman and me a polygamist (which, weirdly, felt totally appropriate).
Twenty years of wedded bliss pass and I happen to see Lady Steed at a bus stop. My first reaction is to avoid her, even though I have missed her terribly and still love her and am anxious to know how she and our kids are doing. So we talk. And she is pleased to see me, holds no bitterness, we have a nice chat . . . .
And then the dream changed channels and became about something else entirely.
Here's what's unsettling about this dream:
I would imagine, were we to do an extensive survey, that "normal" adultery dreams involve sex and function primarily out of a pent up bodily need. You know what I mean. This dream was nothing like that. The sex was wholly incidental. Just an obvious fact of a close and loving relationship, and merely implied anyway. This dream was not about physical infidelity. It was about emotional infidelity. And, for those few minutes of REM, I was genuinely in love with two women. Upon waking, this filled me with unease.
What is the lesson here for me?