Dream: Lohain Returns, Dies Again, Returns

[qos]

Last night I dreamed that Lohain was alive again. . . He was loving, ardent. We were in a version of my parents' house, with my mother in the next room, and he was kissing me a lot, and we were talking about marriage. I was fretting over not being able to call him "Lohain" because I had told my parents that Lohain had died. . .

He didn't seem worried about it. He was just enjoying being with me again. His energy was as vibrant as ever, his presence everything it had been.

Then we were on a tour of a building that was primarily a theater school. Hal Prince (noted Broadway director) was giving our group a guided tour, including a large room that looked like a high school choir or band room that had computer controlled light banks that quickly and easily changed settings, so someone could either teach or experiment for a production. We were there only a few moments, and as Prince urged us on again, Lohain growled quietly that he hoped this guy was a better teacher than host. (That was the upshot anyway, I can't remember the words.)

We were going down a long corridor when he suddenly grew weak. The next thing I remember is him on the ground, and I on my knees by his side, feeling the terrible helplessness again. He asked for a pencil and paper, so he could write out "where things should go", and ended up trying to write his checking account number on the bank statement. But the numbers became more irregular as he faded, and I watched him die again. This time I tried CPR, shouted for someone to call 911. A woman ran up to help. I asked her if she had been trained on CPR. She shook her head. I yelled at her to call 911. Everyone else stood back.

He died again, his spirit quietly slipping away from his body. Prince and the others drew me back to the main entrance of the building, which was now more of a church organization. We went past a staff meeting. In the entry room, a nun in street clothes asked me somewhat sternly what had happened. Lohain had seemed far too vigorous to have just suddenly collapsed and died. She wanted to know what was going on. . . . I asked if we could speak privately. She drew me into a side room that seemed to have rich fabric on the walls. She held the door open slightly, so she could still pay attention to what was outside.

The dream shifted. An unknown amount of time had passed. I was walking at night, in a small town. Then a series of flying saucers came into view, at least two of them rising up from over a small hill, as if they had been concealed there (underground?). The two rose and fitted themselves to each other then went to ground again, forming a landing pad. The third flew over to set down on them.

Then I was on a balconey, and there was a palace in the background and the space ship on a wide plaza in front of me, and people were emerging from the ship, people long lost to death. I clutched the railing, waiting, knowing he would be among them, that he would be the last off the ship.

And he was. And although there was no special fanfare, he emerged like a prince, after making sure that all his followers had been seen to. I ran down to him.

And then we were in the midst of a huge celebration, as those who had died mingled with those who had lived, and some of the ones who had lived and aged were quietly jealous at the youthful vigor of those who had died and returned. Lohain (who now looked entirely different: slim, brown-haired, more like a classic fairy tale prince) mingled with our old friends (some of whom seemed to be characters from Shakespeare), until finally we could stand it no more and sneaked away to be alone.

There he pushed me up against the wall and kissed me with all his old fierceness and said that I knew . . . "That you always get what you want?" I finished. And he kissed me again, and that's when I woke up.

Comments

[qos.livejournal.com]

Thank you.

I know that when I woke I felt like he had truly been with me for a while, even if he'd had to leave again, and that there was a promise that one day we will be together again.

[sashajwolf.livejournal.com]

Ditto on all of that.

[labelleizzy.livejournal.com]

what a beautiful, reassuring dream.
thank you for sharing.