What Your Dreams Want You To Know
It was online love at first site. Big, bold, gorgeous and everything my witchy heart could ever want in an old victorian gem of a house. It was pink trimmed in purple and turquoise and had a pool in the back with a separate building for my office that had a moon and stars perfectly adorning the door where I would work my woo woo magic in the overgrown back yard. I hadn’t seen it in person yet but I knew it was mine. Even if Papi had his reservations - which he would - so I got to work on setting the mood.
I dressed him up in his city slicker cowboy clothes, told him we were going on a day adventure to a small river town nestled just outside the city. I drove him along the beautiful river path through the charming downtown and brought him to the bar on the waterside and got him drunk.
The timing was right so I sprung the house on him and that we had an appointment scheduled in 20 minutes to just - ya know - walk through and take a look. No pressure. *wink wink* Breath holding, teeth gritting, totally vying to ‘just keep an open mind” I was too intensely implying.
He didn’t say much about my practical magic of a beauty. But frankly I didn’t care. I was going to buy it come hell or high water and he could just come along for the ride. So, I went to work on my persuasion plan (more booze) while ensuring the realtor and financing and inspection were all squared away. I had everything lined out until the night before we were to sign the papers I had a bad dream.
We were on the river next to the house pontooning the day away with the pups. Papi was sunning while I was snuggling my beloved pitbull who tied for first as the love of my life. Listening to twangy love songs, drenched in soul shine when up out of the darkness of the water a pink and purple people eating monster with turquoise scales rocked the boat and knocked my darling dog who couldn’t swim into the water.
I jumped in after him but as I was swimming to save him the scaled beast came to the surface and chomped my puppy to pieces and with a prehistoric guttural groan disappeared back into the water leaving me swimming in blood and guts and parts of my beloved dogs fur. I awoke wrecked and sobbing.
I couldn’t sleep the rest of the night. I knew. The dream of the house was over and I couldn’t shake the loss of my beloved dog. I did the dream analysis anyway just to make sure and woke Papi to tell him it was over. We could not buy that house. For our dog was love and the monster of a house ate our love. It would take this special thing we had between the two of us and ruin it.
I think it was the first time Papi gave silent gratitude for all my woo woo wonky ways. He exhaled in relief for monsters and bad dreams and my witchy delays.
And the house. Well, as it turns out was next to a prison and needed a renovation and had an hour and a half commute to the office. I might have heard all of that if I would have listened but I couldn’t see past my punch drunk real estate romance. So, instead my dreams took me for a ride to show me the way. Cause if you don’t hear the nudges or the whispers during the light of the day your nightmares can sometimes be the hero to show you the way.