I had another one of my dreams last night. The one's that you wake up from expecting to be able to touch everything you did in that mini Neverland. You wake up ready to fight with those who did you wrong. Ready to love those who saved your life again. And ready to cry over all the things that went wrong. And then it stays with you. The feelings, the raw emothions, the hope, the anger-all of it. It just stays and stays.
They say the color purple is the color of spirituality. In my dream, my hair (of all things) was the deepest, most vibrant shade of purple I've ever seen. But people didn't react to it like it was crazy....they reacted to it like it was a mark of something different, of something better. Better than what I don't know. Just better.
Thrown in with the dream were scenes of building a new pasture for my horse. Carrying a baby that doesn't exist as if he were mine. Standing in a wedding that I knew was a big mistake. Washing some mans very deep and very serious wounds. Sitting on the top of a huge and dangerous hill. Forrests that held wolves and beauty and danger. A world where nothing and everything was as real as it is now. Solid. A whole world. My life.
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