Another dream – this one only bittersweet

Before I begin my entry, I’d like to say Happy Birthday to my Papaw, up in Heaven.  He would be 92 years old today.

The first person who ever said that one never forgets their first love was right on the mark.  He should have been given a prize of some sort for accuracy.  I had another dream featuring someone from my past…second night in a row this has happened.  This one featured my first all-consuming love, Matt.

We were our current ages, which are 35 and 36 (until November, then he’ll be 37).  Some kind of musical trip had reunited us…as friends, never fear….but I discovered, throughout the trip, that my feelings for him were still very much the same as they always have been.  And he knew it, too.  I didn’t have to tell him.  He just knew. 

In real life, he never loved me back the way I loved him.  At least, if he did, I never knew about it.  

There aren’t many details to the dream, really.  We spent time together, as we used to…mostly in a musical setting…choir rehearsals, etc.  Eventually, I was sitting on a padded bench-thingy by his bedroom door in the place we were staying.  I didn’t seem to have a room, so I slept outside his door on that bench.  At one point, he ran up and plopped his skinny little self next to me on the bench.  We didn’t really talk much, but he wound up falling asleep next to me.  I moved over, to give him room to stretch out if he wanted, and his foot reached out and touched me.  I was so happy to have even that contact.  How I wanted to tell him that as I looked at his face, I saw the same exact beauty I had always seen.  His tolerance of my crazy self made him even more beautiful than the face God had given him.  But I didn’t tell him.

When he woke up, he went into his room.  It was as if it were a flashback to how we met.  He started changing his clothes, stripping down to his underwear.  The reason I said it was a flashback is because I very first set eyes on Matt when I was 11 years old.  I was in sixth grade PE, he was in seventh grade Tennis.  We shared a locker room, and he and I used to stand all by ourselves in a corner of the room and get down to our undies, wash up, then get dressed again.  We never talked, then.  It wasn’t until much later that our wonderful friendship came into play.  Even if our friendship was a bit one-sided…more dedication on my hero-worshipping side than on his side…I never minded so much.  It was always such a thrill to be in his company.  He was one of the few people who could make me feel important and special.  For that, I will always be grateful.

So it appears I will always love him, and I think I’m okay with that.  It doesn’t intrude in my family life….it’s kind of on the often-overlooked edges of my heart.  Every once in a while, something will remind me that I still love everyone I ever loved….but he’s special, that way.  He was the first to completely capture my heart.