Last Night's Dreams

Last night, I had a couple of weird dreams. The first was that I was on the show Survivor and somehow managed to sleep, on night two, at the crew's camp. Needless to say my tribe was pissed. Had I kept up with that dream, I probably would have been the first one voted off. But, I would also have some pretty sweet dirt on the production crew, which I would have sold to the first Survivor fan group willing to huck up a few dollars.

More importantly was Dream #2. I dreamt I was old, on my deathbed. I know I was old because I saw my hands; they were wrinkled and shrunken and, well, old. On the plus side, I had all my fingers, so at least in my dream my clumsiness hadn't cost me any body parts (well, not arm-related anyhow, that's all I saw). I must have been sick. Or really old. Either way I knew I was about to die. I was ok with it mostly, I wasn't panicky or wishing I weren't about to die... Furthermore, I hadn't "found" religion all of the sudden (I always wonder whether my atheism would wane if faced with death, that seems to happen a lot). I had wonderful, peaceful thoughts about my daughter, so I assume that in my dream life I hadn't messed her up too much, she had grown up well and made me proud. This was all quite peaceful save one little detail...

I had recurring thoughts of a man. A man I love with great depth and intensity. There was regret, and I distinctly remember wishing we had worked things out, that I had spent the rest of my life trying to find happiness like I had in that relationship... He was the greatest romantic love of my life and I had walked away.

I'm not sure what to make of the dream. I don't know if this is temporary loneliness, romantic remembrances or what... it's beyond me at this point. Freaky though.