the dream.

This dream of mine continues to be replayed in my head. I am not sure why this specific dream out of the many I have had in the past few weeks, but it continues to haunt me spiritually and personally. What the dream was trying to do, is remind me of how vulnerable I am no matter what kind of façade I continue to proclaim. I think I found a correlation to the dream, and its significance. The night before I was listening to Keysha Cole “Enough of No Love.” I have not cried like this in a while, maybe the last time I did was on my way back from Cabo. I hated myself then, and I hate myself now. But again, this hate is a result of my unwillingness to be broken. I refuse to do so. I continue to think that my mother had something to do with this. With my emotional and psychological abuse. Why i am so tough on myself – but then, why I always make mistakes. It’s like I am an angry child, still full of rage inside. My mother never physically abused us, but she challenged us to be emotionally unavailable. The only time she ever said, “I Love You,” was before I boarded the plane to Chicago. I knew I had to leave to understand her love, rather to be okay with her love. I want to write to her, maybe I will. But later, not now.

For now, here is my dream.

His name is Anthony, and he was a middle school friend. I recently reconnected with him. But I don’t think he had any importance in the dream, I think he was a filler for someone else. He is married and I am good friends with his wife.

Anthony and I were in a relationship, and my family had moved into a new home. A larger home – maybe again, the relationship between my family, my queerness, our social status, etc.

But I was scorned by my mom and warned not to be intimate with this boy of mine. He tried holding my hand, and I pulled away. I don’t know what I was scared about. But fear was running through my body.

Yet, I noticed his resentment. His frustration, I was able to sense how upset he was with me.

Man I don’t understand why this dream was so vivid, and why I liked it so much. It sort of made hopeful, that I should trust in love. that I will find love. but it also made me realize how much more progress I need to make in order to be okay with that.

Back to the dream, at some point, he and I were in some store doing some shopping for this supposed party. He approached me and asked me about why I was so afraid of holding his hand.

This is the pat of me that misses that. The beautiful thing of being able to share with someone. I get tired of being alone. Not because I need a boyfriend, but because I get lost and crazy in my own thoughts. I have so much to say, yet no one to say it to.

Okay so in the dream, I confessed to him that I was scared that I was stuck in the middle of hurting him or disappointing my family. man I want to hold him right now. I just want to hold him in my arms.

We end back at the house, I am holding his hand. I am no longer afraid. I look at my grandma, she smiles at us. I smile back. I look at my dad, he is ecstatic. And my mother, nervous.

See, this is the issue that I am dealing with about negotiating my queerness in action at home. My family say they are okay with it, yet I am still closeted to the rest of my uncles. I mean I don’t care. But I do envision a big queer wedding. Ugh that’s another question, why do I want to replicate heteronormativity? I guess it just makes me so comfortable. Ugh I am a fucking contradiction. Seeking love yet deconstructing it.