In a dream

「夢で」

I rarely remember my dreams. Most of the time, if I do they are either inane or insane. I am much happier to have the majority of my nights filled with the sweet blackness of rest without interruption or memory.

Every once and a while, though, a dream will strike me. Like this morning.

I dreamed I was at the edge of the ocean. It was calm near my feet, lapping against the shore just out of reach. The sky was a blue grey, the air was perfect, and waves rolled white and deep blue off in the near distance. I watched, comforted, knowing that if I took one, two more steps, I would be wet with it.

I thought, looking out at the rest of the ocean bounded in by emerald green distant mountain islands — I have always lived near the ocean. I need this. Why did I ever think I should live anywhere else?

The dream carried on. I followed some sandstone path through some city, looking for someone. I don’t recall who or if I knew who in the dream. Only, I was looking but not desperately. I was content, but on a mission.

When I awoke, I laid there, lost in thought. I remembered a personality test I took some 10 years ago. In it, I was asked to think of a body of water and a way across it.

I thought (of course) of the ocean. By my way over was a bridge. Impossible and oh so removed.

The person giving me the test revealed that the ocean was my sexuality and my way across it was how important it was to me. I was stumped. I had chosen the biggest body of water on earth inter-connected to every waterway and centrifugal to the systems of how water flows. The place all water comes from and returns to. The birthing canal and the grave.

A thing central to the whole of my being.

And yet, I had placed myself impossibly far from this. On a way across that would never, in practically, connect to anything. I could look down at the ocean and only dream. I could not touch, bathe, swim. If I wanted to submerge myself in the experience of it, I would have to jump. And that jump would probably kill me.

Then, I got pushed off the ledge while I was leaning over.
And I can’t be more thankful for that moment.

I now dream of the ocean, powerful and deep, yet calm here at my feet. A place I long, always to be. A warm wetness I know I only need to approach to be covered in. A safe place. A place I never want to leave again.

Home.

And while I may journey off, meander, and look casually for others — I know the place I will return. The water. The ocean. My sexuality bounded in by islands of experience teaming with life. Rich, lush, and mine.

Why did I ever think I wanted to live anywhere else?

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