Dream Brain

You know that moment between sleep and waking up? That's the greatest moment. You're still halfway in the land of dreams, where anything is possible, but you are aware of your thoughts at this point, unlike when you were asleep. That moment is so precious. I feel like so much happens in those few moments. For one: I'm basking in the world that I was living in. The world where I was friends with Ellen DeGeneres and she was going to help me meet someone. Even those couple minutes afterwards, while you lay in bed, the idea of writing her show and asking for help to meet a girl, tell her my story, tell her I'm 34 and I've been finally aware of who I am for over 3 years now and nothing's happened, no matter how hard I try or no matter how hard I don't try, but just let things be; seems like the most realistic thing in the world to do. It makes so much sense to write her and it could be like this great human interest piece she does on her show, like a nicer and less sluty "Bachelorette," but for lesbians. But as the day wears on, that idea makes less and less sense. Reality sets in and you realize how stupid it sounds.
I love my dreams. I don't always remember all of them or everything that happens, but I do remember one thing- I feel so loved and so happy, in my dreams. I have friends around me, people that love me. I feel it, I see it. They are there. I often live in some beautiful mansion in the country or something like that. I love the way it feels. I totally get the movie Inception, and understand why people would want to live in a dream world. Especially when their reality is far from it.
I even tried to convince myself that since I've dreamt about this old friend from high school/college SO many times over the years, that it's a sign I should reach out to her. Just maybe see if we could reconnect as friends. But as the day wore on and I remind myself that she's a mother of 3 who married her high school sweetheart, and even though she'd probably still be nice to me, I would feel too inferior, too much of a loser, to ACTUALLY hang out with her in person. I talked myself out of it because I thought "what would be the point?" "How would it improve my life or hers in any way?" Our lives are just too far apart, too different. We aren't even in the same universe, even though technically she lives probably about 45 minutes away. Why would she make time for me? So I nix another dream idea and move on.
I love those moments though, when anything is possible. Every idea sounds amazing, like it could work. It's funny because it came from our brain. That idea. That "dream" idea. It came from the SAME brain that minutes or hours later tells you that it was a stupid idea. That says it would never work. Nothing good would come from it. It convinces you, the very opposite of what your dream brain told you. But it's the SAME EXACT brain. One wasn't your brain and the other's, your mothers. They both belong to you. So why don't you listen to it? Fear. Fear drives most responses. Fear of failure. Fear of being hurt. Fear of being wrong.
Hope is a funny thing. We couldn't live without it. Literally. If we had no hope, we would give up and not live anymore. Hope is what drives us. But hope also has a dark side. When we find a sliver of hope and we go for it (whatever it is that we were "hoping" for) but instead of obtaining it, we just fall flat on our face or find disappointment... well that's a heavy burden to hold. Depending on how much we were hoping for it, measures the weight or amount of time that disappointment feels or lasts. Like if you were hoping to marry someone you were with for 10 years and that doesn't end up happening; well that smashed hope weight weighs the amount of a carnival cruise ship and the amount of time can be years. But thankfully we don't go through big hope loss every day. I don't think we could survive if we did. I had a moment where I was thinking about this girl I knew in school. We were really only friends in 4th grade. We went to the same school all the way through high school, but she was far too popular for me by then. She was never mean. I was mostly ignored or was invisible in high school, thankfully I wasn't bullied. Except for this one kid who would taunt me with the name "Kristi Yamaguchi" the Olympic gold medalist ice skater, like being called someone that talented, was a bad thing. He sure made it sound like it was, but luckily it didn't last long and I wasn't too much bothered by it. I preferred to be invisible, than made fun of. That's for sure. I wouldn't have been able to stand up for myself back then. But this girl. I was thinking about her. I had no idea what happened to her after High School, and I thought, maybe I could reconnect with her. She played softball and I didn't remember her dating any guys in high school, so I thought just maybe... But by the power vested in Facebook, I discovered she's married (to a guy), and has two kids. So that was that. After that revelation, I felt that heaviness. That little bit of hope smashed again. I felt the weight, it was heavy and weighed me down. I dragged it around, but thankfully it didn't last very long. A few minutes only. It wasn't a dream I had for years or anything. It was something I had thought of just recently. Those bigger dreams, the ones I have of being a writer, or finding someone that wants to see me everyday and spend their life with me and marry me and start a family with me... those dreams, well the hope I have for those are far too great. I don't know what would happen if those dreams were in the definite "NO" pile. I don't know that we definitely have a "definite no" pile. There's always hope... until you're no longer here, but you won't know it because you literal won't be here to live with that "no," so it won't matter anyway. I think I've started to let go of the kids thing. I think it would be awesome and great if it happened, but I'm ok if it doesn't. If I grow too old to bear a child and adoption just doesn't work out for whatever reason, then that's fine. And I mean that in a real "that's fine," not an "I'm fine" which clearly means you aren't. Kids are hard, to say the least. It's a thankless job. I mean maybe you get a child that is at least kind and loving, but that's not going to be all the time. Hate to break it to you. Even if by some miracle the terrible 2's never really hit and he's an obedient child... just wait to the teen years. Something's bound to happen there. I don't think anyone gets off Scott-free. They are a lot of work and a lot of money and lot of time and a lot of your own blood sweat and tears. I guess I spend too much time with behavior-ridden 2 year olds and maybe I'm getting a little jaded, but it's something that's been a long time coming, for me. I thought for sure I'd have 3 or 4 kids. I always wanted a big family. And then as I got older, that number went down to 1. And then I realized I was gay and then that "idea" of a child half-me and half-the love of my life, went out the window. If by some grand scheme I meet a girl who has a brother she's really close to, and not weirded out by us using his baby-making stuff to create a little turkey-baster baby, then that would be the closest thing I could have, to a baby that is part of her. It seems really complicated though, and it would be a miracle if it worked out like that without any issues. And maybe I don't even want to carry a child. I don't know if I could. The idea of pushing a baby outta there seems barbaric and torturous. I literally don't know if I could do it, physically. I know billions of women do, but I don't know that I could. So even with that dream out of the way, that hope not necessarily gone but dissipated, or not this "must-have of the season," there's still the dream of spending my life with someone I love and care for and who loves me back. Who doesn't love me just as a friend, or a best friend. Doesn't love me twice a year in person and in text and the extremely rare almost extinct phone call. But someone who loves me physically and with all their heart. Who wants my body, my mind and my heart. Wants it every day, wants it for the rest of her life. Someone I connect with on the deepest of levels. THAT hope, I won't give up on. Thankfully that hope could never be smashed beyond repair. As long as there is still pieces, or even just dust left from the smashing, there will always be some hope left.
Now the writing thing, is another story entirely. I feel like I could be crushed many times, if I really tried to make my writings into book form. I could be crushed by publishers, by critics, by the masses. A writer's worst nightmare is to not sell their book or end up in the 99cent bin. I would never give up writing, but I would give up trying to publish another book or just the first one, if I was endlessly rejected. I am human. Maybe some people are stronger than I am. That's fine. Good for them. I guess one of the good things is that I don't write on political or religious matters. I couldn't possibly offend people or enrage them. I never say "this is what you should do." I only write about my experiences and my thoughts and feelings. People can take or not take what they want from my writings. My book however, is the story of 2 young girls who fall in love, the main character of which, is discovering her true self for the first time. It would definitely turn some heads and those moms who are offended by everything, even Disney movies, would have a lot to say about it. But I wouldn't be forcing it down anyone's throats. I wouldn't be asking it to be placed on the high schools reading list. I don't think I'll give up hope for quite some time, on the book front. I definitely won't ever stop writing. I hope when I'm old and gray, I can re-read my writings and it will help me to remember this time in my life. It'll help me re-connect with myself. My words are my life. I'm thankful I have them. And my dreams. Without dreams there would just be boring life. I am glad that even though a lot of life is boring, at least I have my imagination- my dream world, both in sleep and awake. And of course in those moments in between sleep and awake... the best moments. Those I cherish above all. They may be "out there," but they are probably the "realest" (or is it 'most real?') moments you'll ever have. When your brain isn't afraid to think the unbelievable. To it, it is the most sane thing in the world. We could all stand to listen to our "dream brain" every once in awhile. Who knows what might come from it...