I think it's about forgiveness ...

This morning I awoke from a dream that big bad Chuck (aka Randy) wanted to be friends. I've written about him here and here (the man I lived with for 14 years). Only he wasn't big or bad. He was just friendly in the nicest possible way. Except that I couldn't be friends. I woke up thinking of a song, "... I think it's about forgiveness, even if you don't love me anymore." Another thing I can't do is believe he doesn't love me anymore. When you love someone, you love them forever no matter what. So, I have to believe that he never loved me. How else could he believe a lie? (Which brings up another song, "You Don't Know Me.")

Possessed by the song and the thoughts I tried to find the tune at the Apple Music Store. Not knowing who sang it, I tried "Satellite" but it wasn't Dave Matthews. Then I tried searching for "You Don't Love Me" and "Even If" and finally got a hit with "Heart of the Matter." There is one track available (unless I purchase the entire album directly from Don Henley). I bought it. It's live acoustic and not bad but also not the version that played on the radio for years until I wanted to tear the car radio out and throw it over an interstate bridge. This morning I can't get enough of it. Today it makes sense.

Finding the song led me to the Eagles which were one of Chuck's favorites, together with Metallica. Go figure.

It's hard to forgive someone I love so much who, apparently, doesn't love me anymore and quite possibly never did. I know I have to do it. Forgiveness is sweet and will let me get on with my life and do amazing things like finish my novel and that screenplay. And maybe even make my short stories better. And me happier.

I'm tired of being angry and tired of this aching hole. I know I'm on the road to forgiveness and right beside me are Don Henley and the Eagles.

... and when I'm ready, you'll be there at the end of the road where it branches into a new country. I do it for you. For me. For love. To clear the planet of yet another angry, bitter person. To learn. To be me.

a dream about a poem

I dreamed that a man was reading a long poem just out of my line of sight. A man with a nice, warm voice. He was reading slowly with a deep complicated emotional reverence. He read carefully three times as if he were memorizing or maybe preparing for a presentation. As he read it the third time, I following along silently, knowing all the words. When I woke up all I could remember was:
she adjusts me
hands that heal
hands of faith

I wrote the words down during breakfast. The dream has been haunting me all day. I feel a need to report it. So, here it is.

and now for something

I woke up this morning from a dream about not getting a flight. I kept looking at my watch as I waited in the airport lounge and kept looking and then suddenly realized it was nearly six and not nearly five. I then went to the ticket counter and told the flight attendant, "I missed my flight." She said, "You sure did, Elaine." and began typing things on a keyboard while she looked at a monitor and smiled. I realized it could all be fixed, that my return fight was still good, if I could just remember where I had put my ticket. Possibly in a locker with my suitcase. I knew that any minute now she was going to ask for it. Had I left it in the car? No, I remembered having it in the airport. Fortunately I woke up.

I've had a lot of dreams like that lately; about losing things. Strange. Usually my dreams are lovely or adventurous. Oh well.

I see Perceval Press has added some fancy flash to the site. Makes it hard to read the news links but it almost fits in a screen now. Also, they've finally posted a list of upcoming books. The sale is still on! Hurry on over. You only have until Sunday.

I was interviewed by Style Weekly today about my participation in Script Frenzy. Nothing like a little attention to get me back on track. Yet here I am assiduously not writing my script. Normal, I think.

Well, I'm off to do that now. Later.