For the second time, I had a dream that was significant enough for me to remember and actually write down. It's 3:34 am and I'm up blogging about it. I believe in dreams a lil bit...
The dream is...
set at my alma mater. It starts out with me walking from the fifth form big tree to the quadrangle to have a talk with my dear husband. My husband is a high ranking army official who is also a semi-alcoholic. He is a mixture of different guys I've liked/dated: older, brilliant, someone I esteem, a writer, an authority on something I love.
We haven't been intimate in months. So, I go to him requesting that he pay me a matrimonial visit in the night. He looks conflicted then agrees; liquor fumes are coming from his throat. I am quite excited by what promises to cure all my minor ills.
The night comes, he doesn't show.
The next day I go to him to find out why he didn't come. He unravels to me that he's not happy in the relationship, that he wants a divorce. That he's married to the army and can't deal with my needs too. (Apparently, fiction is my life.)
I accept it. I don't fight him for himself. I go to the school library to search and see if my book is on the shelves. You see, in the dream, I've gone into self-publishing and published my first novel.
It is there. It is called The New Wave.
Paperback. Interesting cover. Not too thick, not too thin. The book I remember from the blurb, talks about the relationship between the fish and the sea , the hairline between being here and being gone. I remember being impressed by the blurb, opening and starting to read the first chapter then being so excited that I have to stop to call my husband.
He answers.I ask him for his opinion on ways of getting my book out to a broader audience. He rattles off various outlets and says he is pleased. This is where I say his name - "Alex". I am very happy that he has given me useful information. I feel a bond with him. Even though he wants nothing more to do with me.