Finding Her

I’ve been having crazy dreams lately.

Last night – I was looking for my bunni. I had a party at my grandparents’ house out in the country and I had a few too many drinks, got in Betty, and drove off down the country roads – determined to find my bunni. I “woke up” in the morning of my dream world and my dad was making breakfast. He gazed at me with tired, sad eyes and asked, “How often do you do that? Get drunk and think she’s still here?” “I don’t have to be drunk, dad, I look for her all the time.” I bit into one of my dad’s wonderful egg sammiches and contemplated in my dream … remembering the desperation of peering through my headlights into the darkness of the cornfields, hoping to see my bunni coming running toward Betty&I.

Sometimes I wonder what my dreams mean … why I’m looking for her … why she pops up in the middle of my sleep … what it means that sometimes I can’t find her. Is she trying to tell me something? That she doesn’t want me to find her? That she’s gone somewhere she can’t be found? Is she trying to tell me to stop looking? I guess it doesn’t matter. I’ll always miss her and love her and with I could find her again. I’ll always search for her face in crowds and relate so many of my moments to the ones I had with her. I just hope my next dream is one with her beside me – holding my hand – and allowing us to be bunni&I for a night.

Popularity Court

I’ve had wild dreams lately. I can’t always remember them when I wake up, but last night’s I do remember and it was incredibly off-the-wall.
My high school had this thing called Snowcoming (our winter version of homecoming). I got on “Court” once in my career and the super catty girls – the ones who thought they were more popular than they actually were and cared more about popularity than the fun they had with their friends – all insisted there must have been a mistake. I’d been a part of that group for about a year – partying&rebelling – then I settled back down with the girlfriends I’d always been genuine with. (For the most part in highschool, I always jumped around – I had lots of friends who were always friends, but I floated from group to group or enjoyed my time alone.) ANYWHO, in my dream last night, I was in with the catty girls (a couple of whom I’ve recently run across on facebook) and we were shopping for alumna Snowcoming dresses. One of the girls, who I’d been closest with, was elected to Snowcoming Court and so was I. We spent hours running around shopping for dresses in my dream and our friend (who’s pregnant in real life) tagged along insisting that she’d be the Snowcoming Queen if she weren’t pregnant.
All the irritations of highschool burned my sleeping ears and when I finally woke up from the nightmare I was reminded how much I don’t miss the drama. Moments like those make me remember why I went through “loner” phases where I’d spend my evenings in the local coffee shop working on yearbook layouts instead of drinking stolen vodka from parents’ liquor cabinets. (Don’t get me wrong, I did plenty of that.) I never seemed to fall for the idea that the fight for popularity was actually worth the popularity and I think I turned out better without it.

Card Hunting

I had a somewhat silly, semi-wonderful dream about my bunni last night.
I was at the store buying a card – I believe I was buying a sympathy card and planned to visit her grave (weird, I know) – and I kept feeling like someone was watching me. I’d whip around the catch the looker and nothing but empty space would meet my eyes. Then, as I stood in an elevated area over-looking the store while I wrote in my card, I saw her. She was peaking at me over her shoulder while writing in a card of her own. She disappeared and another of her popped up a few feet away, different outfit, same sneaky expression.
This happened for what seemed like hours in my dream-world.
Suddenly her presence was directly behind me. I turned and fell into the deepest hug – inhaling her scent and sinking into her body. When we pulled apart she simply smiled, tucked my hair behind my ear, and handed me a stack of cards. Then slowly walked away.
I fell to the floor and started reading.
“I love you.”
“I’m sorry I left you.”
“I’m glad to see you’re happy.”
“Please don’t forget me.”
“I miss you.”
The messages went on&on&on – scribbled in her adorable hand-writing – all signed with that signature that’s etched inside my brain. I read&cried&giggled till my alarm went off.

I love you, too, baby. And I’m very sorry you left, but I hope you’re better. And, of course, I’ll never forget you, because I miss you every day.

Stressful Dreams

When I get stressed out, I dream crazy crazy things and sleepwalk all over the place. I’ve woken up in random rooms doing weird things like drinking from a gallon of orange juice or ripping pages out of a magazine – and when I don’t actually leave my bed, I dream the most vivid, intense dreams ever.
Lately, with the stress of college graduation apps, job hunting, and car shopping, I’ve dreamt that: Mr.U died in a car accident, I was attacked by a dog, my arch enemy was stalking me, and I knew I’d be dying in a few hours.
Not fun to wake up in a cold sweat 4 nights in a row grasping for anything solid&real that happens to be near me to assure that my life is fine and I’m going to make it.
I’m ready for things to settle down again.

Telephone Giggles

I had a dream about my bunni last night.
It was my birthday. All of our friends were throwing me a party and I really wanted her to be there. So I called her – cause she was in Europe, of course. I begged her to come back for my party and she giggled with satisfaction through the phone about my needy pleas. Then, in the end, she showed up to surprise me with tearful kisses&smiles.
It’s kind of wild how even the subconscious knows that she isn’t here anymore. Obviously I still dream of sitting next to her like normal. But I find myself more&more often dreaming that she isn’t there – for a reason besides having passed on, though.
I like to think she’s just letting me know that she’s still around for me in one way or another.