Every night last week, I dreamt of having a girlfriend. None of the women in my dreams were anyone I know in real life. And, each night, I dreamt of a different woman.
These dreams were kind of wonderfully unremarkable. In them, we were doing normal, everyday things together. We were making dinner, walking the dogs, hanging out, talking, kissing, watching a movie, etc.
With some of the women, it was clear we were in love. With others, we were just beginning a relationship.
Neither my wife, nor any of my past girlfriends were part of the dreams.
I was wondering what triggered this series of dreams. I have no idea.
But it did make me think about how much I loved being in love. I loved having girlfriends and having a wife. I loved the companionship, the security, the partnership, the fun, the touching, the laughter, the cooperation – all of it.
I miss that.
And yet, I’m quite content with my single life today. When I think about dating, interrupting my current routine and the changes that being in a relationship would require, it gives me a stomach ache.
I think one of the reasons I had those loving relationships before was because I was young. I was open to building a different life – in fact I was seeking to do that. I welcomed adventure, traveling, meeting new people and trying new things. It was fun and exhilarating.
When I think about this now, I think, “I’ll never do that again. I’m not even interested in it. I’ve already done it.”
“That” includes everything from parenting, to dining at fancy restaurants, to getting married, to assimilating onto someone else’s family, to sleeping in the same bed or sharing a home together.
I often think to myself, “I’m still in love with my wife. I always will be.”
It was great at the time. I have many cherished memories.
Today, I’m making different memories – alone – by choice.
I sometimes wonder if that’s how it will be forever.