Saturday, 07.30.2016 - 11:14 am.
I woke up from a dream a few hours ago. Part of it came from a video I saw yesterday, something like "this athlete was injured mid-run, look at an angel show up at his side!". I hate-watched, like those pictures where "you can see people's souls leaving their body!" or where ghosts supposedly show up. I kept watching and the "angel" was his father, who helped him finish the race. I took it all back and I cried.
In the dream, the coherent parts of it, my husband was running through town and he injured his leg. My dad found out and, very concerned, ran to pick him up in his car. But then he also didn't bring him back home and took him somewhere else. I chased them in my own car and found them at a house.
At the entrance, there was a Muslim woman with a number of children. I've no idea why they were there, but one of the children started saying very rude things to me about dying, but I kept my cool and told him something slightly nice. Then I walked into the house and my husband heard me come in, and I could hear him rushing down the stairs to meet me.
My husband was...not Andrew. It was Joseph. He seemed happy to see me, but he was limping from the injury. He also seemed slightly drugged and was drooling, barely keeping his balance. I think my dad had given him the drugs for the pain, and I think the drugs were the reason why he was strangely enthusiastic to see me. It was like he was concerned about me and we hadn't seen each other while, when actually we'd seen each other before he went for a run (this was not in the dream, this is something I thought in it).
I looked at him and realized he was just as handsome as ever. And he loved me, and I felt we'd made it. And like in the movies and TV, I said something powerful and the dream ended. I said, "come home with me, honey. I'll take care of you". And everything faded away. And I woke up to my cat Marla pushing my head off my pillow with her four paws, because she's found out she loves sleeping on it.
I thought it was funny that at the beginning of the dream I was talking about my husband but I didn't see him. So it was a surprise when the "husband" who rushed down was the stairs was Joseph. It is a strange thing, in dreams sometimes you are you but you are also an spectator. Me as the latter was all "huh!", while me as the former had nothing to be surprised about.
Joseph embodied Andrew, he was my husband. My dad cares for Andrew a lot, which is why, in the dream, my dad was so concerned about "my husband" getting injured in the middle of the road and wanted to help him. On my part, I do get an automatic reaction from time to time, in which I look at Andrew and feel that he's as handsome as ever. I'm inclined to think I could say the same thing about Joseph, based on the last pictures I saw of him this year, but, you know. That's just thinking a stranger looks handsome.