In Search of: Dreams and Lovers and Partners in Crime

I was emailing a friend earlier today, and he reminded me of a post I wrote a few years ago. Clearly his memory is better than mine because when he mentioned it, I had absolutely no recollection of what he was talking about. But it sounded juicy (or at least interesting), so I went on a hunt. It was a post about a dream. A dream about a British guy, a waterfall, and a kiss. Juicy, right?!?

While hunting, I read old posts. Posts about buying my house, about searching for love, about feeling brokenhearted, about travel, about life. And I was so drawn in. Because this was a record of my life. A beautiful, honest, raw record. I remember writing those words (well, most of them anyway), and I recall so often feeling vulnerable and unsure. Did I really want to press publish? Did I really want people to know this stuff about me? I remember pressing the publish button on occasion, and then taking it back. Unpublishing. And then getting brave again and publishing for good. I remember turning off comments because I was afraid of what people would say. I was afraid of being faced with knowing some of the commenters. I published this blog for the world. But not for my friends. Not for my family. I didn’t want them to know what went on in my mind. They might think I was strange. Or silly. Or pathetic.

But you know what? I’m so glad I wrote those posts. I’m so glad I published those posts. I’m so glad I managed to get over my fears of not being good enough or being judged. And I’m so glad I captured those moments in my life. Because it’s beautiful. And it’s real. And it’s life. My life.

And these are things I would never have remembered had I not recorded them in this way.

There’s something about a blog that keeps me writing as if telling a story. As if writing a letter to someone. When I’ve journaled in the past, I’ve never kept the journals. I always threw them away, destroyed them. I found that I only wrote when I was sad. And so every journal looked as if I was chronically depressed! But with the blog? I wrote when I was sad, when I was happy, when I was having an adventure, when I was traveling. I just wrote to share my stories.

And when I go back to read those stories — I laugh. I smile. I cry. And then I laugh some more. It’s the best way to capture life. For me anyway.

I feel like I go through seasons in my life and my blog. During some seasons, I write a lot. During others, I don’t write at all. And still others, I write once in a while. I wish I always wrote a lot. Imagine how many more stories there would be! But that’s okay. Priorities change, and my life is often chock-full to the brim.

But I hope the stories don’t vanish. I hope the adventures keep being captured. I hope the pictures are shared and the thoughts are written. Because I do love this blog. Everything about it. And I do love to write.

And before I head off for the night, I have to link you to the post about the dream — here! Because when I found it, it was so perfect. I remembered the kiss in the dream. It was so sweet. And so full of possibility. And I may not remember any of the other details I wrote about, but I remember the feeling of the kiss. How perfect is that?

Funny thing, I also wrote about wanting to find a certain kind of man (spurred on by the dream). It was 2011. I haven’t found that man yet. But I’m more sure than ever that he’s out there. And I know something else — I’m close to finding him. I don’t know why. I just feel it.

Here’s what  wrote:

I seriously need to find a guy that will run off with me to different countries on a whim.  Someone that’s not tied down to one place, that likes to travel, that wants to hike for days through mountains, and (perhaps most important) someone that will talk me into doing such things even when I’m feeling the need to be responsible.

Because, as I’ve said before, responsibility is overrated.  Random adventure, however, is always worth my time.

I couldn’t have written it better today if I tried. So I’m putting this out to the universe. A whisper. An idea. A request. If I go looking, please send him my way. (And I promise — I’ll go looking.) Do we have a deal, Universe? Yes, yes, we have a deal.

This entry was posted in Ramblings and Rants.