A subconscious kick in the pants
Last night I had one of the most vivid and meaningful dreams that I've had all year. I dreamt that I was at some sort of conference or convention, but instead of being there to take part in whatever was going on, I was there expressly to meet a very dear and sorely missed friend from many years ago. From what I remember, he was very smartly dressed, which is actually somewhat out of character for him, and although I was overjoyed at finally seeing him again, his reaction to seeing me again seemed muted, as if he were distracted or tired. No matter how friendly and warm I tried to be toward him, he just wouldn't reciprocate to the same degree.
Now, I've rarely tried to interpret my dreams, and I've read next to nothing about the psychology behind dreams in general, but I think this dream had three meanings that are patently obvious. First, I still keenly feel my friend's absence even though it's been five years since the last time I saw him and almost two and half years since I last received any word from him. Second, I'm probably a mite envious of and perhaps even intimidated by the success he's enjoyed in his career and love life since I first met him more than eight years ago (hence his professional attire). And finally -- and this is perhaps related to the second significance of this dream -- no matter how much happiness I'm sure I would gain to try to talk to him again, I have a dread fear of him rejecting me.
The significance of this dream is apparent also because it relates very closely to a dilemma that's troubled me occasionally since 2003. In the summer of that year, I managed to track down this friend by way of the Internet and contact him again after more than two years of being out of touch with each other. In the two e-mail replies that I received from him he seemed glad that I'd found him, but after I sent him my third letter, which asked if he'd like to provide me with his home address, I didn't receive an answer. It might have been that he simply missed it, or that he became too preoccupied with his workload to remember to reply to it. (He mentioned in his last letter that he was "a bit swamped at the moment," that work was "ramping up," and that he had "only...a few moments of free time".) But since I was already unsure about the propriety of the manner in which I'd relocated him, I took it as a probable sign that in asking for his mailing address I'd overstepped his boundaries of personal comfort. Embarrassed, I didn't try to write to him again and I've restrained myself from trying again ever since, although the desire to try again has been achingly persistent.
I suppose that besides my worry that I'll come across as almost stalker-like if I try again to get in touch with him, I'm also worried that he might not want to hear from me again because he's moved so far on from the local furry group in which we met. Not only does he appear to have fallen away from fandom, and not only does he live on the other side of the continent, but he's also married and now permanently settled in the United States. There's no way that we would to-day be able to interact with each other on the same level that we once did when he lived nearby, as I greatly doubt I could to see him in person regularly, if at all. Unless I didn't actually disturb him with my surprise greeting two and half years ago and he was genuinely glad to learn that I still missed him, what reasons would he have now to indulge me and try to rekindle our lapsed relationship? Since the day I stopped waiting for a reply from him, I've wondered whether the fact that it was always I who went to the effort to re-establish and maintain our lines of communication is a tacit sign that he doesn't miss me.
Oh well. Despite the anxiety that this dream stirred, I'm glad I experienced it. For all the fear of rejection of which it reminded me, it made me realise just how deeply I long to reach out to my estranged friend again, and how that longing and my regret for not taking the risk to possibly be his friend again probably won't dissipate. Living with that for years to come would be much worse than sending him an e-mail greeting and being told that there wasn't any point for me to have done so. At least then the matter would be closed and I could expend more time and energy in worrying about more profitable things, and my conscience would be clear, knowing that I'd made the effort and at most only annoyed my friend for my troubles. Of course, I hope that isn't the path that events will take. I remember him as one of my best friends ever, even though I knew him for barely seven months before he moved away. He was, in a way, one of the closest things that I've had to an older brother, and though we might not have that kind of rapport nowadays, it would still be comforting knowing that I could talk to him again.
Now, I've rarely tried to interpret my dreams, and I've read next to nothing about the psychology behind dreams in general, but I think this dream had three meanings that are patently obvious. First, I still keenly feel my friend's absence even though it's been five years since the last time I saw him and almost two and half years since I last received any word from him. Second, I'm probably a mite envious of and perhaps even intimidated by the success he's enjoyed in his career and love life since I first met him more than eight years ago (hence his professional attire). And finally -- and this is perhaps related to the second significance of this dream -- no matter how much happiness I'm sure I would gain to try to talk to him again, I have a dread fear of him rejecting me.
The significance of this dream is apparent also because it relates very closely to a dilemma that's troubled me occasionally since 2003. In the summer of that year, I managed to track down this friend by way of the Internet and contact him again after more than two years of being out of touch with each other. In the two e-mail replies that I received from him he seemed glad that I'd found him, but after I sent him my third letter, which asked if he'd like to provide me with his home address, I didn't receive an answer. It might have been that he simply missed it, or that he became too preoccupied with his workload to remember to reply to it. (He mentioned in his last letter that he was "a bit swamped at the moment," that work was "ramping up," and that he had "only...a few moments of free time".) But since I was already unsure about the propriety of the manner in which I'd relocated him, I took it as a probable sign that in asking for his mailing address I'd overstepped his boundaries of personal comfort. Embarrassed, I didn't try to write to him again and I've restrained myself from trying again ever since, although the desire to try again has been achingly persistent.
I suppose that besides my worry that I'll come across as almost stalker-like if I try again to get in touch with him, I'm also worried that he might not want to hear from me again because he's moved so far on from the local furry group in which we met. Not only does he appear to have fallen away from fandom, and not only does he live on the other side of the continent, but he's also married and now permanently settled in the United States. There's no way that we would to-day be able to interact with each other on the same level that we once did when he lived nearby, as I greatly doubt I could to see him in person regularly, if at all. Unless I didn't actually disturb him with my surprise greeting two and half years ago and he was genuinely glad to learn that I still missed him, what reasons would he have now to indulge me and try to rekindle our lapsed relationship? Since the day I stopped waiting for a reply from him, I've wondered whether the fact that it was always I who went to the effort to re-establish and maintain our lines of communication is a tacit sign that he doesn't miss me.
Oh well. Despite the anxiety that this dream stirred, I'm glad I experienced it. For all the fear of rejection of which it reminded me, it made me realise just how deeply I long to reach out to my estranged friend again, and how that longing and my regret for not taking the risk to possibly be his friend again probably won't dissipate. Living with that for years to come would be much worse than sending him an e-mail greeting and being told that there wasn't any point for me to have done so. At least then the matter would be closed and I could expend more time and energy in worrying about more profitable things, and my conscience would be clear, knowing that I'd made the effort and at most only annoyed my friend for my troubles. Of course, I hope that isn't the path that events will take. I remember him as one of my best friends ever, even though I knew him for barely seven months before he moved away. He was, in a way, one of the closest things that I've had to an older brother, and though we might not have that kind of rapport nowadays, it would still be comforting knowing that I could talk to him again.