Erotic dreams have been storming my nights. Last night’s was a doozy.
(Love the word, doozy. I think it originated with the Duesenberg, but I could be dreaming.)
It was all from a third person P.O.V., as if I watched through cameras. The dream picks up with me being at a place and this woman flirting with me. Dark of eyes and hair, voluptuous of lips and figure, she was tres provocative. The place seemed to be a residence where I was staying for a few days with others, for purposes that I don’t know. She was staying downstairs while the rest of us were being herded to upstairs rooms. Breaking off from the group, I stole back to her. She awaited me. That’s when the erotic part starts.
I was there to be a quarterback. This fact was expected. Instructions were given to me about where to go. I ended up in a well-lit building. Taller and younger than I am, I was dressed in a white tee shirt with gray sweat pants. Four other QBs were present. They were dressed the same. I recognized Ben Roethlisberger, Drew Brees, and Aaron Rogers. They each stood by themselves, throwing footballs to people I couldn’t see. I wanted to chat with them, but they were focused and intense. I started throwing the ball, too, ending up throwing at stationary and moving targets.
I did that for a while and then realized the others were watching me. We talked then in a sort of shorthand, with each of them visiting with me to tell me welcome, and then apologize for the hazing. One told me, “You’re one of us now.”
They left. I was alone, on a large field under bright lines. Exhilaration sizzled through me. I ran for a bit, and then threw the football more. The dream ended with me standing alone under bright lines.
I understood most of the dream, or assigned sufficient meanings that I can claim to understand them. It’s not that difficult. Most of us hope to be desired, wanted, and appreciated.