When I Close My Eyes

One of the things that most convinces me that David and I are psychically connected are the dreams I have, and always have had, about him.

I don't usually put too much stock in dream analysis, due to my natural skepticism, but the dreams I have about David are always eerily life-like, without exception. My dreams of him don't feature anything unusual or otherwordly or fantastic, unlike my normal dreams of flying (which is a recurrent dream I’ve had since I was very young) or topics of mundane interest, like my job. In my dreams, it’s just him coming to visit me.

I seem to dream most intensely about D. when he is most in need of love and support. In 2004, David and I had gone many months without talking. Until recently, this was fairly normal in our relationship, because I was trying my damnedest to concentrate on my marriage to R. I think David knew this, so he kept his distance. But there was a period during which I had multiple dreams about David every single night for about a week. These dreams shook me up pretty badly. I decided to ring him just to say hello, but when I called his cell phone, I received a recorded message stating that the number I had dialed was no longer in service. At that point, cold, hard panic descended upon me. I didn't know if he was still using or not, and I began wondering if he were still even alive.

My dreams bothered me enough to galvanize me into a course of action that I typically wouldn't pursue: I called his mom's house and spoke to her directly. After a few minutes of awkward small talk, I finally said, "Lynda, I know this must sound awfully strange, and I feel silly even saying this out loud...but I've been having a lot of dreams about David this week for some reason, and I just need to know if he's okay. I tried calling his cell, but it's turned off."

His mother was silent for nearly a full minute, and I began to think that she was going to hang up on me. After all, David and I had been broken up for four years at that point, and I was now a married woman. I knew my concern for him must have sounded extremely odd, perhaps even inappropriate.

But then she sighed. "Well," she said, her voice sounding distant and old, "he's locked up again. For DUI."

Sitting at my desk with the phone wedged between my shoulder and my left ear, I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers into my temples. "Oh, no."

"Yep," she said matter-of-factly. "And he's really not doing well at all. He got some kind of infection since he's been there. They're not sure what it is, but he's been very sick. I haven't been able to get out there to visit him yet. He's having a really hard time right now." A pause. "I'm not surprised that you've been dreaming about him lately. You two have always had a connection. Maybe he's trying to reach out to you somehow in your dreams. He knows you've always been his friend. And right now he really needs a friend." She sounded so sad. I could've cried for her.

She gave me his inmate information and I told her that I'd write him a letter and try to visit him if I could. As soon as I got off the phone with her, I dashed off a couple pages to him and mailed it out that same day, requesting that he send any responses to my work address. A week later, I got a letter back from him at my office. He had been shocked to hear from me but seemed genuinely thrilled that I'd written to him.

Over this holiday weekend, the dreams started up again. I don't know whether to believe they're due to the current situation I've found myself in with David, or if there's a deeper meaning to them. All I know is that every night for the past five nights, after I close my eyes and fall asleep, I have seen D. in my dreams.

I miss him so.