Twenty-five Years Later
About once a year, I have a very strong dream about the first boy I ever really loved, the one who broke my heart by actually turning out to be weak. At least, he wasn't as strong as I was. Why my head can't remember that he was a jerk instead of idealizing him as a kind of supremely funny, smart, caring person, I'll never know.
The dreams are startling in their vividness and strength, the kind of dream that you keep remember for a few days afterward. I always wake up with a feeling of happiness, but as soon as I realize I'm back in 'the real world', I feel very sad.