Last night was one of those nights where I had a lot of dreams.
Totally random ones, too.
There were wedding bells, and I had missed the ceremony of the Royal Wedding. Not that in real life I actually care about the Royal Wedding, but still.
I discovered that my rainbow Girasol baby wrap had a huge hole in it.
And then, someone unexpected appeared.
It was Mr. Wonderful!
Now, I have no idea who Mr. Wonderful is, what he looks like, or what he sounds like.
But I know what he feels like, and he lives up to his name.
Earlier in the day, before I went to sleep, I was having terrible abdominal pain from my chemo, Xeloda. I am currently on my 3rd cycle, and take 6 pills a day. I was so poorly, I could barely eat my dinner. Clearly this manifested itself later in my dream.
So there is Mr. Wonderful, and he is gently kissing me, all along my scar that runs below my belly button, and gently caressing my sore abdomen.
I was surprised, because I am very self-conscious about this area. Between my hip to hip scar, my new belly button that isn't quite center and doesn't look real as it was re-created by surgeons during my reconstruction, and my stretch marks, it is not exactly the most flattering part of my body.
I could tell that in my dream, Mr. Wonderful and I had been intimate before, based on how comfortable I felt with him being so close to this sensitive part of my body, and that I trusted him completely. Then I said, ''I am sorry we can't make love...I am in too much pain.''
And then he said, ''We already are.''
Aww!! We already are. Wow.
In my dream, Mr. Wonderful knows that making love has nothing to do with being inside of me. It has to do with an instinct to comfort me when I am hurting, and being there for me when I need him. And loving me unconditionally, even when I am sick and cannot reciprocate anything in return for him.
It reminded me of a passage I read in a book entitled, I Wrote This For You, that goes,
''Making love was never about you and me in a bed. We made love whenever we held hands.''
I feel like I have dream-cheated on my husband. Even though technically the person in my dream isn't even real, I am getting divorced anyway, I cannot control what or whom I dream about, and he has consciously watched actual real women engaging in sorts of things via porn over the years without me caring. In hindsight, I wonder what it says about me, that I didn't care.
Although I will say, if Mr. Wonderful was getting his jollies off by other women, I would be offended. And Mr. Wonderful isn't even real.
I wonder what a psychologist would say about this. Someone please remind me to ask my long-suffering therapist tomorrow. She won't be shocked at all to learn about my impending divorce since our last session. She is one of those people who you can tell their thoughts just by looking at their facial expressions, and whenever I would tell her this or that about my husband, she would look slightly disgusted. No poker face at all. Ha!
If I had to wager a guess, I would say my subconscious desperately just wants to feel loved, without feeling like a sexual object. No lust, or fiery passion. Just loved, sweetly and genuinely, even with all of my many, many (Did I mention ''many''?) imperfections. That's all.
I suppose on some level, that's what we all want. Because when I am being poked with needles, having my breast lumps felt up by the surgeon, or having a colonoscopy or a pap smear or my next reconstructive surgery, or any other uncomfortable procedure, I won't think about lust or fiery passion to comfort me. I will think about being loved, sweetly and genuinely, by someone like Mr. Wonderful. And I won't feel sad or scared anymore. I'll just feel happy in the knowledge that someone loves me more than anything in the world, and wants nothing more than the chance to love me forever, even with all my quirks and flaws and scars.
I hope that Dream Mr. Wonderful hasn't set the bar too high for Real Mr. Wonderful, if and when I ever meet him. I keep the reality in my mind that it will probably just be me and my children and Poe and that I may end up very lonely.
Maybe there is no Real Mr. Wonderful, and the person whom I think will be Mr. Wonderful will just be some animal who wants to get in my pants, and not have any real interest in comforting me after all. Maybe he will think my off-center recreated belly button is weird, my scars are too wide, my little tummy too soft and marred with stretch marks. Maybe he will want another woman who has nipples. Maybe every time he touches me there he will feel disgusted.
The good part is, I have no intention of seeking the Real Mr. Wonderful for a long time. In fact, like with most things in life, the best things happen to you when you are least expecting them. And at least until then I have the Dream Mr. Wonderful to keep me company.
I wonder what he'll get up to next?
Totally random ones, too.
There were wedding bells, and I had missed the ceremony of the Royal Wedding. Not that in real life I actually care about the Royal Wedding, but still.
I discovered that my rainbow Girasol baby wrap had a huge hole in it.
And then, someone unexpected appeared.
It was Mr. Wonderful!
Now, I have no idea who Mr. Wonderful is, what he looks like, or what he sounds like.
But I know what he feels like, and he lives up to his name.
Earlier in the day, before I went to sleep, I was having terrible abdominal pain from my chemo, Xeloda. I am currently on my 3rd cycle, and take 6 pills a day. I was so poorly, I could barely eat my dinner. Clearly this manifested itself later in my dream.
So there is Mr. Wonderful, and he is gently kissing me, all along my scar that runs below my belly button, and gently caressing my sore abdomen.
I was surprised, because I am very self-conscious about this area. Between my hip to hip scar, my new belly button that isn't quite center and doesn't look real as it was re-created by surgeons during my reconstruction, and my stretch marks, it is not exactly the most flattering part of my body.
I could tell that in my dream, Mr. Wonderful and I had been intimate before, based on how comfortable I felt with him being so close to this sensitive part of my body, and that I trusted him completely. Then I said, ''I am sorry we can't make love...I am in too much pain.''
And then he said, ''We already are.''
Aww!! We already are. Wow.
In my dream, Mr. Wonderful knows that making love has nothing to do with being inside of me. It has to do with an instinct to comfort me when I am hurting, and being there for me when I need him. And loving me unconditionally, even when I am sick and cannot reciprocate anything in return for him.
It reminded me of a passage I read in a book entitled, I Wrote This For You, that goes,
''Making love was never about you and me in a bed. We made love whenever we held hands.''
I feel like I have dream-cheated on my husband. Even though technically the person in my dream isn't even real, I am getting divorced anyway, I cannot control what or whom I dream about, and he has consciously watched actual real women engaging in sorts of things via porn over the years without me caring. In hindsight, I wonder what it says about me, that I didn't care.
Although I will say, if Mr. Wonderful was getting his jollies off by other women, I would be offended. And Mr. Wonderful isn't even real.
I wonder what a psychologist would say about this. Someone please remind me to ask my long-suffering therapist tomorrow. She won't be shocked at all to learn about my impending divorce since our last session. She is one of those people who you can tell their thoughts just by looking at their facial expressions, and whenever I would tell her this or that about my husband, she would look slightly disgusted. No poker face at all. Ha!
If I had to wager a guess, I would say my subconscious desperately just wants to feel loved, without feeling like a sexual object. No lust, or fiery passion. Just loved, sweetly and genuinely, even with all of my many, many (Did I mention ''many''?) imperfections. That's all.
 |
| Thousands of miles away? Try non-existent! |
I suppose on some level, that's what we all want. Because when I am being poked with needles, having my breast lumps felt up by the surgeon, or having a colonoscopy or a pap smear or my next reconstructive surgery, or any other uncomfortable procedure, I won't think about lust or fiery passion to comfort me. I will think about being loved, sweetly and genuinely, by someone like Mr. Wonderful. And I won't feel sad or scared anymore. I'll just feel happy in the knowledge that someone loves me more than anything in the world, and wants nothing more than the chance to love me forever, even with all my quirks and flaws and scars.
 |
| I hope so, too |
I hope that Dream Mr. Wonderful hasn't set the bar too high for Real Mr. Wonderful, if and when I ever meet him. I keep the reality in my mind that it will probably just be me and my children and Poe and that I may end up very lonely.
Maybe there is no Real Mr. Wonderful, and the person whom I think will be Mr. Wonderful will just be some animal who wants to get in my pants, and not have any real interest in comforting me after all. Maybe he will think my off-center recreated belly button is weird, my scars are too wide, my little tummy too soft and marred with stretch marks. Maybe he will want another woman who has nipples. Maybe every time he touches me there he will feel disgusted.
The good part is, I have no intention of seeking the Real Mr. Wonderful for a long time. In fact, like with most things in life, the best things happen to you when you are least expecting them. And at least until then I have the Dream Mr. Wonderful to keep me company.
I wonder what he'll get up to next?
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