Story time with Robert: “I dreamed him last night.”

I really do not know why he suddenly came to mind. Maybe it was the coffee date with my friend that I recently had and they asked me about him.

You see, I have not spoken to him in nearly seven months. The last time I heard from him, he could not talk to me. Time sure does fly by quickly.

The dream was about the life I would have had, if I had accepted either of his marriage proposals.

However, you see, I declined them all.

In my dream, he and I lived in a 2 bedroom home in the suburb. Possibly close to where I live now, or maybe equidistant to where his mother lives and where I live now. In my dream, he was officially retired but was going back to work (I do not know, he just was). In my dream, we were just another typical couple, doing whatever mundane things couples do.

The funny thing is that within my dream, we traveled and we were sincerely in love. I just can’t explain how you can wake up and feel totally in love with a person?! Please do not tell me that perhaps I was never out of love with him because I do not believe that I was ever in love.

Dreams have a way of seeming as if they are real. Although only a dream, perhaps a part of me would like it to be real. Perhaps it is because some part of me longs to have that type of relationship and not necessarily with him.

Why does the mind try and trick us!?!

So who saves the hero, in the end?

Every one deals with loss quite differently. For me, it was definitely different.

Previously, I wrote about what life would be like should my father pass away. Sadly, this reality came to be. My father recently passed, and while we are all still trying to salvage what was lost. It has only been weeks since this came to be.

Some aspects of this process were wholeheartedly disillusioning. Friends who under other circumstances would have been like family, failed to show their faces; whereas, others, I did not even want around me during this time. This was a heartbreaking process for me because (blinded by my grief) I could not think of anyone to call on for a warm embrace or a helping hand, or simply to be a pillar of support. Those who were aware and tried to be there for me, I didn’t want around me because in that moment, I wouldn’t have been able to compose myself and I felt as though I would have to be strong for them, too. During this time, I just did not know how to be strong.

Then there were friends who did know what was going on and failed to show up. They failed me, in the sense that they would send a text offering condolences but they were nowhere to be found.

Maybe I was not right in my head but in that moment a text to say you was sorry for my loss is not what I needed. I needed an embrace. I needed to know that everything would be all right. However, it just seems like this was too high of an expectation.

Sadly, while this was my reality, it was not my sister’s reality. My sister’s friends were with us in our grief. They helped to feed us when we were not hungry and they came by to help clean up the place. In the past, I never thought of my sister’s friends as friends of mine or even friends of the family; it just felt like in that moment, they were no longer her friends, now they were our family.

They say that you know what people are made of in times of trouble and times of joy. The people I called friends, were only there for times of joy and in my trouble, they were not available.

This one person called me to say, “I know what you’re going through, my mother’s friends’ friend, recently passed away.” When I asked, “how close was that person to you?” His response was, “oh I never met them.” And I wondered, then how do you know what I am going through? You have no idea what it is to lose your parent but in that moment, I held my tears, thanked him for his condolences, and ended the phone call.

This is why I could not speak to anyone about this situation because talking to friends about it would only make me upset. In that moment, I did/do not want to hear about your grief. I did/do not want to know that you lost your parent 10, 5, or even 3 years ago, and how you are still not over it. Much less, how it does not get easier. All of this is brand new to me and surely, I will manage to cope with my loss.

So, it has not been an entire month since his passing and we (as a family) are learning every day to cope with his absence. I have only told a handful of people because I needed to get it out of my system and tell someone. I needed to connect with people and let them know about my bereavement. And while I am a strong person, I just needed a moment to collapse.

My only question is, “Who’s there to save the hero?”

Planning a trip!

I have always dreamed that I would meet the love of my life in a foreign place and it has always been my objective to discover new places.

You see, ever since I was a little boy, Spain has seemed like it was my home. Unbeknownst to me at the time, but my heritage was Spanish. It was not until I inquired about where my parents were born, or how they came to be, that I was told what my ethnicity was, and why my eyes are the color, they are.

For the longest time, I had the recurring dream that I would meet “my love” during my travels. And in this dream. It was never truly clear of the “how” or the “where.” Those details always seemed to escape me.  But one thing was always certain, that I would need him and it would feel kismet, because finally I was reunited with him and my heart instantly recognized him without knowing his name.

As I sit here, planning the details of my trip, I begin to wonder if those boyhood dreams would materialize?!  

I guess, it was never really my objective to seek him out. But I look to stranger’s faces and ask myself, would I instantly recognize him? Part of the reason why I fell in love with strangers all too easily.

Too many years have passed by, and many failed attempts to plan this trip. Finally, it can be made possible and I look forward to the experience.  

Story time with Robert, "curiosity? or morbidity?"

With so much going on in the world. I have to believe that there is genuine concern for our fellow men.  As an Idealist romantic, I want to believe that there is good in the world and that all the evil that surrounds us, is only temporary.

Recently, I have taken to traveling for business. It is okay, I suppose.  Personally, I do not care for flying; it is very expensive and such a hassle at times.  As a person who enjoys “people-watching,” I am exposed to many circumstances that deflate my social idealism.  

Recently, at the cusp of the Christmas holiday, I was at the terminal awaiting my flight. Of course, I get there early to avoid the rush and time delays of waiting in queues.  As a lone traveler, I tend to keep to myself. However, I noticed an acrobatic couple practicing, what look like their routines or maybe just doing stretching exercises.  This is when the person balancing himself on his partner’s legs lost his balance and fell backwards, hitting the back of his head on the metal railing off the window.  This of course made a loud noise. While some people lifted their heads, and some even ran towards the person to see if he was ok. At this moment, his partner yells out for assistance as the person is bleeding.  

Admittedly, I was definitely concerned and torn between rushing to provide assistance, and staying behind so that I was not in the way, but I see others getting to the couple much quicker than I do. Therefore, I simply stay in my seat saying a quick prayer so that the person who was hurt was okay and not seriously hurt.

Nevertheless, as I sat there looking at the commotion and seeing an influx of people coming over to see what happened out of morbid curiosity.  I found myself completely disgusted by these people.  A couple and their teenage son, come over and literally hover over the couple on the floor trying to suppress the bleeding while waiting for emergency response. I see the EMT’s rushing over and having to push these very people of out the way to get to the person on the floor.

It sickened me to think that people are so morbid that they would stand over a bleeding person and not offer any assistance.  Almost like killing prey and watching it die. (I realize that the analogy is not the same but it feels like it applies.)

Shortly after the person was taken to a different site to be cleaned up, facilities came by to clean the area and disinfect the bloodied spots on the carpets. You would not believe that another family came by and sat down on the floor next to the bloodied carpet stains, while the “wet floor” signs were still posted.

These acts make me loose hope for humanity. Like, seriously, where is your compassion?