Velkomin, Welkom, ברוך הבא, Vitajte

I am chasing a girl in my dreams. I stand on the bright side of the shadows with open arms.  I’m not sure who she is, but we’ve met a few times and squabbled about whether to love. 

“I’m so glad to have seen her again,” were my first thoughts this morning.

Without the benefit(s) of physical intimacies, we are having a torrid affair. It twists my heart when I reach and she denies me. I try to put words to her innuendos and understand her side of our argument. Last month there was someone else, but the other woman didn’t come up in conversation last night.  She must be gone.  Apparently, I have a new hurdle...

“It’s not time. I’m not ready,” she turns her back to my ethereal self, and then she moves into the shadow of our space.

“Come here,” I said. 

She did. And, I stole a kiss. I didn’t care. It felt good. It still feels good. 

The fact that my soul is trying to convince her of our truth is unsettling to my daytime self. It doesn’t know this truth that carries much weight.  It is haunted with a need to know why my sleeping self cares so deeply.  And then, I realize that the she—the love I am chasing—resembles someone I once knew.  You can be sure that my daytime self gets “it” after the recognition.  She was a young love, pre-#1.

Back then, I hadn’t had many experiences in love or life.  She had graduated, secured a job, and wanted someone who already had a few things to share—like a dresser or sofa. I wanted to be part of her life; I wanted to grow with her. I would say, “I don’t need you, I want you.” I thought this was a brilliant and mature statement. Though cheesy and con-artist sounding, the feelings were authentic. Eventually she politely asked me to not stalk her. 

Years Decades later, here I am—, stalking her in the sneakiest of ways. I wait in the shadows of her dreams.  Obviously, I was wrong. Some part of me does need her.

Of course, the daytime self can very clearly see that I’m a hopeless romantic who should flick this idea off the counter like a dried Thanksgiving turkey crumb.  I would benefit by getting a grip on reality before I get too far into 2013.  She is a complete stranger.  I would struggle to recognize her in broad daylight unless my soul clued me in.

If all of this metaphysical unknowing is weird to you, it’s not weird to me. It’s pretty commonplace whenever I am at the crossroads of big decisions. The next #4 is a big decision.  Two years before I met Ex#3, I had a ridiculously vibrant dream. I woke and wrote the first short story of my life before my first cup of coffee.  A few months later, I moved from Texas, moved to Florida, moved to Georgia, and Boom!; I meet soon-to-be #3 and her lover.  They had the same (unique) names as the two characters in the story.  What had been happening in their relationship, during the two years since I dreamed and we met, was reflected in my short story.  In six short weeks, I was leaving my #2 and she was leaving her #2.  I believe that short story suffices as empirical evidence— people meet in places where their bodies can’t go.  Also, yogis talk about the astral and causal planes. So, I’m using them for historical reference (backup support).

I might be highly intuitive, but I wouldn’t hang a shingle and attempt to be a professional. (I know my limitations, and my daytime selves (I and me) don’t let much of the crazy slip through their filters.)  Also, I am not completely convinced that ideas from non-corporeal entities is 100% beneficial for humans who bruise and bleed, alone.  

In my search for #4, dreams appear to be the only help I’m going to get.  There are no dead relatives or divine interventions.  But, I can live one day at a time on hope.  Here’s what I’m thinking— because my girl doesn’t leave the dream, she knows I’m right. Because she keeps showing up for these ethereal conversations, she knows I’m right.  Because she kissed me back (and we liked it), she knows I’m right.  But, as each dream progresses, she backs up while I plead.  I can’t win if I have to convince another soul to love mine.

With all of this laid out in front of me, I’m not convinced that I’m meeting the she who I pursued when I was young.  This dream girl may be merely like that woman.  They may share a “soul” resemblance.  Either way, I’m sure the right she will come around, eventually, and my soul will enjoy sweet kisses with her.

This might be a jump, but I thought this topic would make for a good introduction for the “Lesbians Linking Lands” update.  I’d like to think that we’re all pseudo-psychically connecting on an ethereal playground.  I’d like to think this is how so many lesbians have connected around the globe, but I know that someone—probably a few someones—out there are sharing the blog in not-so-pseudo-psychic ways.  

I just love seeing a new country on the blogspot list.  Here are the most recent arrivals: Iceland, Belgium, Israel, and Slovenia. 

Welcome! Share your stories with us, ")