Two dreams

Last night, I dreamt that I was sitting at the table in my parents' kitchen, sitting in the same spot in which I sat during the first date with my wife --during which I cooked coconut lime chicken for her-- observing a conversation between my wife and a man five or ten years our senior and who reminded me of a slightly heftier Ed Begley Jr. during his glory years, who I understood to be a physician of some sort. I couldn't tell whether they knew that I was there, but from their conversation, it seemed like they didn't. Or if they did, they didn't care. Or at least she didn't care.

It quickly became very clear that he was very interested in her, and that she was not offering much verbal resistance. So I said, or thought so intensely that it might have been audible, "Just f*** her. Go ahead and f*** her. She'll like it. She'll feel guilty, maybe, briefly, like she's let some vague someone somewhere down for some reason, but after the dust settles and the mess is mopped, she'll like it and it'll do her some good. Just f*** her now. On the floor, on the table, wherever. You both want it, so just do it."

And that was it.

I know to which conscious thoughts I can attribute much of this dream, but the matter of whether I'd actually like my wife (for whatever reason: fascination? justification? liberation?) to have a tryst of some kind is an interesting one. Ironically, of the two of us, she's the one who's come closest --emotionally and physically...I only have the edge mentally-- to having an actual affair. Not sure whether I've written about that one yet. A subject for another day, perhaps.

The night before last, I had another dream that disturbed me. But enough dream details for one post.