Sorry--to you and my Ex's

So apparently when I write things that I don't want anyone else to know, they all come out negative. Ugh. The problem is, it's hard to find a time to write when no one is around to snoop over my shoulder (remember? This is a secret release?) so the only time I have squeezed it in so far is when I am compelled to get the thoughts down so that they don't overwhelm me into outer darkness (i.e., negative.) I'll try to be better.

Remember how I said that I may have to write about dreams that I have about ex-boyfriends? Well, here comes the first installment.

I always dream. My husband doesn't. It would be one thing if he didn't really remember them, or they were a little weird. But just never to dream?! I guess that was one of the ways that we attracted oppositely. Because I DREAM. Very vivid. Very realistic. I often wake up and have to convince myself that what happened is not something to worry about because it was only happening in the confines of my elaborate brain. That sneaky brain. Always messin' me up. Why is it that it won't recall where I put my keys when I am late for a doctor's appointment (whose secretaries--I'm positive--punish me for being 1.5 minutes late by making me wait an extra HOUR for my appointment.) but it will go on and on about stressful minutia when I sleep? Is it crazy to think your brain is taunting you? But I digress...

As I was saying, I dreamt about a boyfriend again. It was Jersey. Jersey who was the nicest guy in the world and, at one point, I thought I would marry. Jersey who worked the summer slaving away at two jobs so he could save up enough to fly out and produce a ring. Jersey who didn't see it coming. Jersey who still loved me even though I was the biggest jerk in universe and spurned his every attempt to reconcile. Jersey. I've felt a lot of regret about Jersey.

So, as follows the pattern of my dreams, I dreamt about him. I often dream about boyfriends who I felt I did a disservice to. Like somehow I can make it right or something. And I can't tell The Spouse about these dreams anymore because he still feels some kind of wierd jealousy about it. I try to explain it's because I was so LAME that I dream about them--not because I still yearn for them or desire them--it's just that subconsciously I still feel like I need to make things right. But he gets threatened. So I don't bring them up. So here comes the writing therapy.

My dream this time had strange elements as usual (so maybe I should say "normal" elements?): for example, Michael Baryshnikov directing a movie with one of my love interests in it...?! But in the end, there was Jersey. He came up and put his arm around me, his hand a little lower than it should be for just an old friend. I was surprised and a little uncomfortable with it. I sort of shrugged away subtely, turned to him and remembered that he was married and had a family. So I tried to be all light and asked him about them. I said, "You're married! And I know you have at least two kids--tell me about your family!" He said he had a wife and four kids, actually. To which I replied, "Four kids--that's great! I know you wanted to have a big family. What are your kids names and ages?" He looked down and said, "Only one of them's mine."

Huh?

Then, as only dreams can do, I saw his life play out as he told me about how his wife was a theatre major in school and so when he first found the ticket stubs for events, he just assumed she'd been going with friends. And then he found that he'd been paying for an extra cell phone and other random things...and he realized that she'd been cheating on him and he was convinced that the last 3 kids were the other guys'.

AHHHHHHHHH!

And suddenly I realized that he looked on me as someone to help heal his pain...and I wasn't going to. Again. I was happily married, with a family of my own. And I was trying to find a way to make it not awkward and yet still make him feel better...when I woke up. Ah! Another frustrating dream! Why can't I just dream that these guys are happy and well-adjusted now and we can be friends and have our kids play together under sun-shady trees, with the ex's palling around with The Spouse by the barbie...?!

Well, I guess even my brain realizes that The Spouse wouldn't let it get that far. But I would like to think that one of these days I'll dream about them in a benign way--like in passing, or something. I do have a lot to regret from the dating days--but I've tried to repent and forget. Why can't my brain let it go?