NACHO DREAMS

I woke up with tears on my face and squinted at the clock. It was 3:28 AM. I sighed and rolled over, scenes from the dream I had been in the middle of still playing out in my head. It was yet another breakup dream where Chris was dumping me. He does this in my dreams and every time, I hear myself pleading with him, begging him to give me another chance. I tell him I’ll do whatever he wants and I’ll change to fit any mold. Every time, he just shakes his head and turns away. This time was no different from the last time. I woke up rejected and heartbroken all over again.

I know why I have these dreams. Wait…that’s not really true. I don’t know why I am still having these dreams, but I understand the meaning in these dreams. Chris left me and there was nothing I could do about it. There was nothing I could do to make him stay. Death is the ultimate breakup. The difference now is that when I wake from these dreams, I no longer see that breakup as my fault. I know that Chris’s leaving had nothing to do with me not being enough. In the beginning though, I was not so sure and sometimes even now that idea of not enough is a thorn sticking into the soft part of some flesh on my body. It takes a needle and tweezers to pull it free, but once it is, there is a modicum of relief. I see pictures of couples celebrating the anniversaries that Chris and I should be celebrating and my heart fills with equal parts joy and jealousy for them. I wince as I feel a new thorn stab me and I dig into the medicine cabinet for my extraction tools.

Not to long ago, I dreamed that I had a fancy new coffee maker. At the push of a button, you could have any coffee beverage you wanted. Americano, espresso, latte, soy latte, mocha latte. Anything. Then there was another button you could push that would dispense nacho cheese dip. In my dream, I was giddy and holding a bowl of tortilla chips up to the coffee maker. By the end of it, I held an Americano in one hand and a bowl of nachos in the other and I was filled with joy. I did not realize until just now that this is exactly the kind of coffee maker Chris would have invented.

Why can’t all dreams be like this one?