I wonder if we dream based on our sexual orientation.
I hardly hear of any straight person exclaiming they had a super-sexual, proactive, tantalizing dream about someone of the same sex. Besides having encountered some of those who prefer members of the same sex, I don’t hear much from them saying they’ve experienced heterosexual-themed dreams. I doubt it’s something that never happens. After all, we’re all human and I’m betting we experience much of the same thing. We probably don’t own up to it out of fear of what these dreams may be telling us and what others may think of them. We may be afraid of what our own subconscious is trying to tell us.
I have heterosexual-themed dreams. I mean, these aren’t dreams about going to Lowe’s or Home Depot and fixing a broken sink or building a house all on my own. These hetero-dreams always pit me, a rather queer, alternative-living guy, against something that causes me to really get up and ponder. When it comes to dreaming about intimacy and relationships, I (on most occasions) dream like your standard hetero. These dreams aren’t overly sexual, they aren’t hot and steaming Cinemax material. They are innocent, full of longing and desire. I once heard someone say that there are two types of people; one who prefers erotica, which is romance and the emotional love and then those who are more turned on by sexual love, the love that involves lust, desire, sex and all that standard stuff. I think, at 25, I’m all about the emotion. You see, I’ve never experienced a relationship with another person. Am I opposed to one? Not entirely. I just, as they say, “haven’t met the right person” and there’s a fear in me that without having had a relationship to recall or refer to, I honestly wouldn’t know the first thing about BEING in a relationship.
I had this dream last night. Me and this female were in a bustling city … it reminded me a bit of downtown Miami, or perhaps part of downtown Dallas (I’ve never been to Dallas but I’m a big fan of ‘Dallas’ the tv show so have tiny impressions of what it looked like back in the ’80s). We were watching people enter and leave a store. She’d point at one, “Oh, how about him?” I’d look, shake my head, “Nope, not my type.” We’d wait and the doors would open again at this white retail store. “Him? He looks good!” I’d watch and again would shake my head. “Oh no, definitely not him.” She’d patiently go on and on and I’d find something wrong with each one.
Finally, she suggested we actually go into the store. We left our safe observation post above a building and went into the store. It was a drug-store/convenience store; nothing fancy, kind of bad lighting, dingy looking floors that suggested there had been lots of traffic in the store and that this was a well-established store. Me and my companion slowly walked the aisles in search of my ‘dream’ guy. The few we encountered did nothing for me. No excitement, no piqued interest, no comments from me whatsoever. This has actually been my attitude toward men and relationships in real life, as of late. No excitement, no real interest. Sure, I see one or two that make pause but still, at 25, I’ve not encountered one that I’ve engaged in a way that’d lead to a relationship of intimacy and trust. I often times feel like I’m living in a ‘Gentlemen Prefer Blondes’ world; there are plenty of Marilyn Monroe types who seem care-free and get any man they want. Then there are your Jane Russels, like me, who tend to be the watchers and responsible ones. We Jane Russels are tag-alongs, there for the fun, not so much for the experience. The spotlight is never really on us but we’re fine with that.
We were about leave and give up when all of a sudden … there SHE was. She made me stop. She grabbed my attention. She had my heart all a flutter. A brunette; not tall, not fancy but in my eyes, she was immaculate. She was not unlike some of the Babestation Girls that you might performing live on camera online. At this point, my companion, who had been trying to relentlessly to help me find the man of my dreams just disappeared. I was left alone, staring at this female who looked to be around my age. She was looking at some items on a shelf, not taking notice of the many others around her staring at her. I approached her. I can’t remember or recall if I said anything to her. All I remember was that I put my arm around her shoulder. She smiled. She gave me a look that asked, “Are you crazy? I’m too afraid to ask you this myself so we’ll just stay like this to appease you.”
I was happy to have found her. To be with her in that moment and in this microcosm of a moment and within a dream, I started to dream again. I dreamed of a life with this unknown woman and opportunity. A future, shared experiences, there was a lot of promise with this one. And then as she finally looked at me, still smiling, I woke up. Ah, it was just a dream.
I know what some may say. You’re straight! Stop denying yourself and go out and find your ‘dream girl’! I don’t believe that to be the case, though. There will always be a part of me that will latch on to a female; it’s with a female you can rely on(when you’re queer or of a non-hetero leaning); it’s a female that when a man does you wrong, you can run to and tell them and they will GET it, they will understand beyond the realm of the bedroom or positions; it’s with a female that when men come and go, relationships fail and turn into a puff of smoke, they’ll be there and they’ll hold your hand just long enough to tell you to get back out there. I’m not sure why I dream in hetero-vision.
Maybe there is a part of me that knows the kind of love and intimacy I’m looking for doesn’t exist amongst men. Sure, there’s someone out there for everyone but I’m not convinced we’re always in a position to find or meet that person. I’m a stubborn guy; I hate settling for anything less than what I want. Whether it be a certain purchase item, a craving, or in terms of a person I like, I don’t ever want to just pick something that’s convenient and a knock-off.
I’m still single, I’m still just HERE and not so much out there but all I can say is that I dreamed a dream. Not a dream I’d expect, but in the end, not a dream I’d completely be opposed to.
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