I had a bad dream last week. In my dream, my friend yelled at me, flinging accusations. I awoke feeling uneasy, and the feeling stayed with me, pinching me every now and then, spurring me to action.
My dreams don't come true very often. I might dream that my teeth are falling out, but my teeth are never loose in the mornings when I awake. I might dream that I've forgotten to go to a class all semester and will surely fail the exam, but the waking reality is that I graduated 20 years ago. I sometimes dream that Randy and I never married, and my heart cries out for the children I never had and the love I lost. I wake from that dream first with a broken heart, and then with tears of gratitude and relief.
But this dream of last week, this one came true. Perhaps I shouldn't be blogging about this, although my friend made it clear that she doesn't read my blog. I had a conversation several months ago with a friend and fellow blogger who went through a major life change last year. We discussed how I found it all so shocking because she never mentioned any of this in her blog. We talked about how blogs record but a portion of one's life because so much has to remain unsaid.
So I'm leaving the rest unsaid, but to blog about how startling the yellow gingko trees are against the blue sky seems superfluous on a day like today, when I am feeling bruised and shattered and left pondering how to begin the repair.