him again

Last night I dreamed I was with my old boyfriend and he was as he was then, young and still very boyish, before the curse that is age made him mature and cynically acerbic. He was shaggy-haired and goofy and completely unaware of his sexiness, just like I remember.

You know how you can talk to yourself while you are dreaming--like this other level of consciousness? Like the director's comments feature on a DVD? I love that. In my dream, I was the age I am right now, and I looked at him with wonder, thinking, "god, were we ever that young?" I could not take my eyes off of him. Anyway, he was wearing jeans and a loose old hippie shirt that laced up the front. We were in a van and he said he had to make a stop at work.

I was surprised to see that he worked in a big office and as I followed him inside I noticed that everyone was so happy to see him. He was casual and greeted everyone warmly and as he chatted with a woman at a reception desk, I wandered off and looked at framed art work hung on the walls that all looked like it had been drawn by children. Then as I turned back I realized that it was his office, I mean, his enterprise, he was the boss. But when I looked at him again, he was suddenly my age, middle aged, but it didn’t seem to surprise or alarm me.

He grabbed my hand and we walked from the building into another that was a like a huge glassed-in display floor like at a car dealership, only it was packed with motorcycles. He told the woman there that he was picking up a motorcycle, but that we didn’t want helmets.

I stood there listening and when he said “no helmets,” I noticed I was clutching a small suitcase to my chest and I said to myself: “Is he frigging crazy? I’m not getting on a motorcycle with him without a helmet.” He turned around and grinned impishly at me and he was a young man again and at that moment (and not because he was a kid again) I said “Okay, maybe it will be fun. Yeah, I guess I will after all. But what am I gonna do with my suitcase?”

Then I woke up.