Has the worm finally turned for me in my dreams? Given the one I just woke up from, I say hell, yes! It was probably the most satisfying dream I've had in the last several years. I'm going to describe it to you and, of course, it's not going to sound anywhere near as good as it felt. But I'm going to do it anyway, if only because it still lingers fresh in my mind and I want to document this monumental achievement.
The dream began at a hotel right on the beach. I was there to visit one of my friends and his three sisters. There was a lot of activity going on in the hotel and on the beach and I got the sense that I may have been there to attend a wedding or a family reunion. Ultimately, though, my reasons for being there aren't exactly pertinent.
So, I arrive at the hotel and stop by the room where all the siblings are hanging out. I feel really good about being there, as I've always gotten along very with the family. It dawns on me that at one point or another in recent history, I've slept with each of the sisters. And it also dawns on me, happily so, that no complications had arisen as a result. No awkwardness here. We hung out and talked about the brother's upcoming wedding.
I had originally hoped that another woman was going to be staying at the hotel because I was certain I was going to hook up with her. When I found out she wasn't going to be coming, I was a little bummed out. But then, as I swiveled my head from sister to pretty sister, I quickly forgot about this woman.
As the dream progressed, I fooled around with each sister, often in front of each other. Very liberal family. The youngest sister represented the anonymous woman I've pined over in this blog. I wasn't any more into her, though, than the other two. No, I seemed to like them all equally, though the oldest I seemed to end up with the most.
The dream was long and all I pretty much did was go from sister to sister (what a slut!). In between hook-ups, I'd hang out with the brother and kick a soccer ball around on the beach. For obvious reasons, I didn't want the dream to end.
But end it did, as all dreams must. Right before I woke up, I was consoling the brother, who was crying over the gaudy wedding invitations his parents had given him. I told him he didn't have to use them if he didn't want to, that, after all, it was his wedding and not theirs. He then said something like "Now, I've stuck all manner of items up my ass and liked it, but I imagine I wouldn't enjoy shoving a cactus up there. I guarantee you, however, that I'd find the experience more pleasurable than dealing with my parents." My last thought before I woke up was, "Hmmm, I guess he is gay, after all. I wonder if his soon-to-be-wife knows".
The dream gets the gold medal for these reasons:
1. I had uncomplicated sex with multiple women, who I genuinely liked and was attracted to, throughout the dream. Usually, if I'm going to have any sex at all, it's mega-complicated and only ever happens at the end of the dream and I usually wake up before the good parts.
2. The dream was nice and long. Whenever I have long dreams, they're usually tedious to get through. This one was a pleasure.
3. The setting was at the beach. Typically, most of my dreams that occur at the beach aren't very good ones. They usually center around missed opportunities and death.
There were other factors that made the dream so great, but they're not so easily expressed. Ahh, I think I want to go back to sleep. Maybe the dream will turn out to be prophetic. I'll be keeping my eyes peeled for three sisters and a closeted brother.
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Funny I should have that dream when I'm currently in a relationship. Is it cheating, though, if it's only a dream? It just made me think about another one I had the other night. In it, Mara revealed to me that she had been reading my blog. I immediately panicked and then realized I hadn't written anything negative about her. Still, there was something that upset her, but I never got to find out what it was because I woke up.
I haven't told Mara about this blog and I'm wondering if and when I should. Part of me doesn't want her to read it because I'm not sure if it's an accurate reflection of who I am. Or maybe I am sure and that's why I'm not sure I want her to read it. Could be I don't want someone I'm seeing to have such documented access to my recent past. I mean, this blog is only slightly less personal than a diary one keeps hidden in their dresser, and I'm not sure how comfortable I am with someone I only recently met, yet am intimate with, having such unguarded access to me. Ah, but isn't better for the soul to be open and not concealed?Ultimately, it's no big deal whether she reads the blog, though I could see certain aspects of the it (e.g. my pathetic swooning over a woman whose identity is a mystery) giving her pause. Ah, it'll be alright. The past is the past. At the moment, I like where I am, firmly rooted in the present.
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Went to Salem last night to attend Spira's art exhibit. It was fun, but there weren't too many artists on display and, consequently, I ended up spending much of the two hours I was there hanging out on the patio by myself eating mozzarella sticks and meatballs. Fortunately, Spira's boyfriend Sean and Lukewarm showed up, so I had a couple of chaps to hang out with.
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I have an interview at a law firm tomorrow, courtesy of Luke Warm, who works there. It would be a great thing getting this job. A relief, to be sure. I feel confident the interview will go well. This could turn out to be the summer of Kevin. Cross your fingers.
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