Wednesday, February 15, 2012

The Day after Valentine's Day

Notice that except for one, I haven’t told you my dreams. Part of this is simply because I don’t remember them; the other part is that it seems an imposition. 
That said, here is one short recent dream: 
Dan I have broken up. He is living in our apartment in New York City (which we moved out of five years before he died). 
I return there. Dan isn't home. I must pick up boxes of my things. There’s a strong feeling of emphasis in the dream on boxes of my things. Someone, a man, is with me; not a lover, it feels like my brother (who lives hours from NYC). 
In the apartment, I see a pretty hat—straw, with a brim and ribbons—and I wonder if Dan has bought it for me; any stylish, unusual clothes I own were gifts from Dan. But this hat isn't mine, and I realize it's not meant for me. 
In the bedroom, on top of a bureau, I see notes from a child, or children. I’m mystified until I get it: he’s dating a woman with a child. I’m not unduly upset by this. I feel a sense of regret, a sense of being an outsider, but not grief. It feels like our breakup is either mutual or caused by me. I think, he always liked children, at least on a visiting basis. I think, this is what happens when you break up, you’d better get used to it. 
That’s it.
Question: Is someone, something, telling me that Dan has moved on? He has other interests now. And, by extension, so should I. 
L., who’s much more astute psychologically than I am, says it’s more that I am moving on. Collecting my things, moving out. 


  1. Debby, I'm inclined to agree with your friend that you are the one who is moving on, or forward. However, I'd also hasten to add that a dream can only represent, at best, a part of the truth. You will, of course, carry Dan in very special portions of your heart no matter where your journey takes you.

  2. I'm with Keara on this one, Deb. It's a good thing to move on.... I think Dan would agree. And she's right that you'll always have him with you. (the other L)

  3. After I left my first husband, I went into therapy,12 step programs and read every self-help book I could get my hands on, all very useful in their own ways. My therapist once told me that there was a theory that everyone and everything in one's dreams is really oneself. Just something to think about.

    Of course, now I never remember my dreams. So what's that all about?


  4. I notice you use "bureau" where most people today would write "dresser." My father used "bureau," while my mother, six years his junior, used "dresser." One of the first French words I learned was "bureau"--meaning either desk or office--in the statement "Je vois un bureau," which came after "J'entre dans la salle de classe. Je regard autour de moi." Oh, yes, my therapist said dreams are detritus, the subconscious jettisoning clutter so that there's room for other stuff. To dream is human, to interpret is divine.