The Imaginarium

I wrote this some time ago, but not in my offline DJ:

"I had a dream that made me sad when I woke up. I don't remember when I dreamed it, but I recently remembered it. It wasn't the dream itself that was sad, so it wasn't that my day was affected by something imagined. However, the emotions in the last moments of the dream did stay with me at the instance of wakefulness. In the time just after realising you're awake but before you realise where you are, I went from so unbelievably bliss full to hollow and empty feeling.

I don't know how the dream started or where it went to get to this final point - it's probably inconsequential and certainly nonsensical - but at the final point in my dream, I was happier than I can remember being for a long time. My dream was very simple, I think, but since I only remember the last moments I can only say conclusively that the idea was simple. In the dream I was seemingly as I am now apart from one single difference. You may see it as minor or you may see it as major. I was married, presumably, and holding the love of my life who was pregnant with our first child. I remember the sunlight on her face and her smiling. I just felt content, and wished things could stay like this for ever.

Then I woke up. Not like being torn away or fading out but instantly jerked into that semi-concious state, one moment there, the next here. I realised I was alone and wondered why. Then I realised I didn't know this woman and couldn't remember her face. How could I forget her? Finally, full conciousness hit and I remember life as it is. I realised that I had been dreaming. In the moment I remember being the saddest I have been in some time. I remember feeling hollow. Then I got on with my day, and forgot about it, mostly."

That was the most emotially intense dream fragment I've ever had. I don't know what made me remember it now, but when I do remember it, I feel sad. It sounds cheesy, but I can still see her face, when I remember this dream.