There are many kinds of dreams that come from our subconscious, but the dream I had on Sunday was my most unusual one.
I was transported to a fairyland where beautiful belles danced and sang. I dreamed that I was in Paris. I went into a nightclub and I saw people doing many exciting dances, like ballroom and the Twist, and the Shake. As I watched the spectacle and the drama, a handsome man gazed upon me.
I was attracted by his rosy cheeks, alluring eyes, and smile. I thought of Keats’s poem, ”La Belle Dame sans Merci.” His silent expression directed at me was enthralling. I was captivated by his charm and sweetness. I thought of responding to his love.
I talked to him and he spoke to me with lovely and witty remarks. We had a cup of coffee and talked to our hearts’ content. But I couldn’t help remembering the eternal lines of Shakespeare’s sonnet 116:
Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
Was his love true or false? I tried to be true to him. I expressed my love to him in the most unambiguous terms. We promised to marry. But soon the music and dancing and drama of the club came to an end and as it did, he left, saying he would return soon.
I waited for him, but he never came back. I was repenting and thinking I was betrayed in love. As I was pondering my heartbreak, my eyes opened. I was enjoying the nightlife of Paris only in a dream. But my heart hurt as though I’d been abandoned.
Photo: François Picard