I had the oddest experience the other night when I put my head to the pillow—I was afraid to fall asleep because I was afraid I wouldn’t wake up.
I say weird because I’m not afraid to die. I long ago heard the whispers of the angels and I’m at peace with the notion that my kidneys one day shall deliver the ultimate betrayal. I’d prefer that eventuality to arrive later rather than sooner, but I’m okay either way.
Thus, a sudden fear of dying in my sleep makes no sense at all.
A case could be made, of course, that I should simply ignore that peculiar thought. It was, after all, a one-off. Or appears to have been. Since that night, I’ve had no such anxieties whenever I’ve chosen to lower my lids. It’s been nothing but lights out, head down and sweet dreams.
Well, okay, they’ve not all been sweet dreams. The one about my being with child, for example, was a tad disturbing and notable for its quirkiness. Not only was I pregnant three months shy of my 65th birthday, but the bun in my oven had somehow been placed there by my first major girl crush, Colleen, a lovely lass whom I have not seen or spoken to in more than three decades. Colleen was not a lesbian when we first met in the late 1960s and I’m guessing she’s not a girl who likes girls today. But she was in my dream and she somehow managed to knock me up. Like I said, it was a quirky bit of business, but, at the same time, I must confess that the notion of having Colleen as a partner remains, to this day, most appealing.
Anyway, I digress.
It’s about my fear of falling asleep for fear of not awakening. I’m quite uncertain what was at the root of such an insecurity, but, after a few days of ponder, I’m inclined to think it has something to do with unfinished business. Both personal and professional.
Probably more than anything, I would like to have one more relationship. One that is not a dream, yet is a dream, if you catch my drift. Really, a partner is the only thing missing from my life. I have become a hopeless romantic and I like to think that, even at this late stage, there’s a girl out there who pushes all the right buttons for me, and I for her. A loving companion, that would be bliss.
I would also like to land one more significant writing gig. I have my books (I really must get back to finishing No. 10) and my blogs, but, as much as I thought I would never say this, I have begun to yearn for a regular byline again.
Yup, just give me a girl and a gig and I’ll have no trouble laying my head on the pillow and lowering my lids at night.
Hmmm, I wonder if I still have Colleen’s phone number…