I dream, but I rarely remember them. It seems to happen only when I wake up for a few minutes, then go back to sleep.
Last night I slept the fitful sleep of someone who had two wine dates with girlfriends in the same evening. At 3 am I drank lots of water and took ibuprofen to avoid the inevitable over-imbibing headache.
I dreamt I was traveling to Faraway Lover’s town. My hotel room phone was missing the handset, so I went to the lobby and asked for help to make a phone call. I ended up in a call center, where I tried to call his number. It didn’t work: I couldn’t get through.
They gave me a handset and I went back to my hotel room.
Then I woke up.
My alarm hadn’t gone off so as I always do, I looked at my phone. I had two missed calls.
From Faraway Lover. No, I’m not kidding. It’s been at least three years since we’ve spoken. No, I didn’t hear the phone ring in my sleep: my phone is always muted overnight. He left me a message: “Hey Ann, it’s Faraway Lover. Long time, uh… give me a call when you get a chance. Bye.”
I couldn’t believe it. I called him right away, realizing mid-message he would be asleep given the time difference. I left a message about my dream. I told him I was looking forward to hearing from him and hoped we could connect.
Hours later he called. I was about to leave for an appointment but stretched out the time for as long as I could. He confirmed that yes, he was forbidden from talking to me. He said he also needed to pull away. He said he knew just ignoring me was not the right thing to do but he didn’t know how to handle our strong physical and emotional connection. When I said I was happy and had spent the last few years exploring, he said: “Yeah, well, I got married again right away.”
Hearing his voice, that goddamn sexy gravelly voice, took me right back to all of our late night phone calls. I’d told myself that so much of what we felt was situational, but I know there is still a strong connection.
He also said, “OMG Ann, do you think about the insanely good sex we had? Just hearing your voice; oh my god, I know it’s been so long but just hearing your voice, I have… I mean… fuck, I’m rock hard.”
It struck me then that as much as I would have liked to stay in touch with him as friends, as much as I’ve moved on and moved forward, that he hadn’t. His wife was quite right to be worried about him staying in contact with me. As flattering as it was to think about someone having such a visceral reaction to me, I would have rather we kept the discussion purely friendly.
He was in the city we last saw each other in, hence his call. I had to go and I hoped we could talk again, but it didn’t happen. Who knows; I may not hear from him again in years. But it was nice to be thought of.
And I’m still freaked out about my dream.