Last night, in a very vivid dream, I think I said my final goodbye to my first lover. I could be mistaken, though.
He has been dead for a few years, though I didn't know that until about 6 months ago. There had been a few random times over the decades where he looked me up on social media or found my phone number or email address through an internet search, but the last contact we had was just a "hello, was thinking of you" more than 10 years ago after I had relocated across the country.
I had decided to google him when I saw an online discussion asking, "Do you google your ex?" If I hadn't seen that, I have no doubt that I would have remained ignorant of what happened to him. I saw that he died in May, 2020. The brief online obituary that was the first hit through the search engine did not give a cause of death, though it mentioned he was cremated. I assumed that he might have been an early casualty of COVID-19 because of the timing.
I was genuinely shocked by my lack of reaction at the time. I could have been reading the nutritional information on a box of dried noodles for all the emotion that news of his death stirred in me. While it had been long ago, our relationship had once been intense.
I was 19 when we met and began a highly emotional and highly sexed affair. We had talked about permanent commitments and even adoption of a child to take place when we were both out of college. We each were the first man the other ever bottomed for, though we had each topped someone else before.
I'll never be entirely sure why he decided to stop being with me, but he made his decision. At the time, it could have not have been more unexpected, especially since he continued to mention love and have sex with me to within minutes of his deciding to break up with me. If a heart can break, mine did.
I wouldn't say that I ever forgave him for what he did that day -- or other thoughtless and inconsiderate things he did in the days, weeks, and months afterward -- but I eventually moved on past the pain. I made connections with other men over the years, though none of those relationships were as passionate as what I had felt with my first lover. There is never anything quite like the first headlong rush when you throw yourself into a relationship when you don't know how devastating it can be if it ends. With enough time and distance, you occasionally remember the joy of the mutual emotions and obsessions you shared with each other.
Six months after I learned of his death, I began thinking about him in a way that I hadn't done in decades. It seemed that he was always in my thoughts. If I were the type to believe in spirits or ghosts, I might have suspected that his had come to seek me out. Because I was thinking of him so much and remembering the feelings I once had for him, I decided to dig deeper and try to find out exactly how he had died. Due to his cremation, there was no way I could send flowers to his grave as a token of my remembrance, but perhaps finding out for sure what happened could give me some closure.
I eventually discovered that he and another died in an early morning house fire. To me, that might be the most horrible way to die. At one time, when the pain he caused me was still raw, I might have wished briefly that something like that would have happened to him. Not after so much time had passed, though.
When we had been together, he had professed a (superficial, I suspected) belief in reincarnation. He would say how souls would return after death and seek out others with whom they had formed a strong connection. You don't carry the memories consciously, but you would recognize people from other lives and gravitate towards them. If you had harmed them in a previous life, you would try to atone for that in the next -- or the other person would try to balance the scales by hurting you back.
I considered this to be a bit of nonsense, but it was hard not to recognize the romantic aspect of it. It explained, in a corny kind of way, the fast and intense emotions we felt for each other. Even if things did not work out in this life, maybe there was a chance that people could still make a go of it the next time around.
In my dream last night, I was in front of an unfamiliar door, but somehow I knew where I was. I opened it, and there he was standing behind a table with his back to me. He turned and looked at me. His face lit up into a smile that I instantly recognized. He was not quite as I remembered him, but there was no doubt it was him. We talked briefly before we fell into each other's arms. We had sex, with him on top riding me, and we both climaxed. I was very conscious that this was happening in a dream, which is unusual for me. He seemed very much alive, though.
I remember that soon after, someone came into the room to fix something in a closet about the heating or water heater, and my ex moved just outside the door through which I had entered. He asked me to go with him. I went to the door and reached out for his hands.
"I can't," I remember saying with some regret. "You're dead." And I wasn't.
He had no obvious emotional reaction to this statement in my dream, though I think there might have been a trace of disappointment in his face. Then, he reached out his arms and pulled me into a hug. I buried my head into his shoulder and turned my head to face his neck. I could feel the stubble from his chin on my cheek. Remembering that he had said he believed in a form of reincarnation when we were together, I asked, "Will you wait for me?"
I don't remember him answering, but we remained in each other's arms for a moment longer. Then I was groggily awake, feeling a mixture of peace and sadness. I remember trying to hold the thought of him in my mind as I attempted to go back to sleep. I ran through the dream multiple times, hoping that I could pick it up where I left off. As is usually the case, though, when you "try" to sleep, I was not able to drift off again. Eventually, I got out of bed.
After I had woken up and sat at my computer, I decided to try one last search to see if I could get any more information on how he died. For some reason, the first result on a search today unearthed a news item that had not previously come up. His cause of death was officially smoke inhalation. I'm cynical and experienced enough to realize that doesn't mean that he did not feel the fire, but it also could mean that he died in his sleep before it could get to him. I think I would choose to believe the latter, even if it might be a little more optimistic than I might otherwise be.
Did he actually come to me in my dream last night? If I believed in spirits or ghosts, I might think that.
Was the dream last night just my brain trying to reconcile long-buried feelings for this man who once hurt me deeply but whom I can now never see again? Logic would suggest this is more likely.
Was he right about souls coming back and seeking each other out in the next life? I don't know of any evidence to support that, but I won't deny there is still a certain allure to that thought.
If he was right, will he wait for me until this life ends for me so that we can begin again together? In my dream, he did not answer. I do distinctly remember, though, that he did not let me go in my dream. He held onto me.
I don't know what kind of response that might be -- if it even was one. Did the fact that he did not say anything mean that he was moving on to his next life? Did the fact that he continued to hold me mean that he would wait until I was ready to move on with him? This was, after all, a dream. I guess I won't find out unless there is a "next time around."
If I dream of him again tonight and he asks me to come with him, would I? Given another chance, I think I might.