Had put on some meditation music.
Theta waves.
Binaural beats.
Sleep came slowly.
Then, suddenly, I was in an old house
In Storrs-Mansfield, CT,
Where I used to live in the 90's.
It looked like it had been abandoned for years,
All dust, decay, and disrepair,
But there were many more rooms inside
Than the outside could possibly contain,
Like the TARDIS from Dr. Who.
Still,
There seemed to be a college style party going on
Inside and outside.
People making out in various dusty corners.
Some people I knew.
Some I didn't.
Some were celebrities.
Everybody was dressed down like they were homeless.
My first wife was with me,
And we were, apparently, on acid or some other hallucinogen,
Much like everyone else there.
We seemed to be having a good time.
Seemed to be affectionate towards each other.
Then, suddenly, I had my two ferrets cradled in my arms,
And I was freaking out that this wasn't a safe place for them.
I kept trying to find somewhere to put them so they wouldn't get lost or hurt.
One of them had apparently swallowed a handful of coins.
Dimes, nickels, quarters.
I kept trying to squeeze them out of her with a gentle Heimlich maneuver.
She periodically vomited them out
Until I couldn't feel any more coins in her belly.
She seemed otherwise okay,
But they both kept getting away from me.
I kept gathering them up and looking for a safe place for them.
In between all this,
I somehow lost my pants
While making out with the ex
While still holding my ferrets in the crook of my left arm.
Keegan-Michael Key,
For some reason, joined in on the search for a safe place.
"Do I have pants on?" I asked
As we came to a large wooden door.
"Nope. You're pants are gone, bro," he replied.
"Oh, well. No time to worry about that," I said, and continued the quest.
The inside of the house was a maze,
And each room seemed to be styled after various time periods throughout history
Like some strange Indiana Jones repository of historical relics.
Wound up alone on the roof with my ferrets...
Still looking for a secure cubby to stash them in
Until whatever hallucinogen I was on wore off.
It looked like the top of an Incan steppe pyramid.
Some kind of cherub (The cupid type, but still sinister) was staring at me from a distance.
It did not give off a terribly "Be not afraid" vibe.
My coin purse ferret had abruptly lost most of her hair,
And was suddenly soaking wet,
But otherwise seemed healthy.
I wandered back down into the house with them.
My ex wife was suddenly back accompanying me,
Trying to help find a secure place for them
Back through the multi-time period labyrinth of a house
Looking for materials to possibly rig a secure hutch they wouldn't escape from.
Someone gave me a brownie of some sort.
Thought I lost a tooth, but it turned out to be a walnut piece covered in chocolate goo
After I fished it out of my mouth.
The ferrets kept disappearing from my arms
And appearing a few feet ahead of me,
Underfoot of the people at the party.
I was quite athletic in constantly bounding ahead and re-capturing them.
I don't know what event finally woke me up,
But it seemed terrifying.
I sat up in bed with a gasp.
My first words on waking?
"Oh, my God! I'm still in love with Tami...
Fuck me!"
(This was not a feeling I welcomed, and I had no desire to make amends...)
I turned on the lights in the real world and woke up my sleeping ferrets to give them kisses,
Relieved that they were safe.
The residual emotions were confusing and complex.
They lingered for a while.
I had to tell myself, out loud,
It's okay to have those feelings about her.
It's okay, I guess,
To love someone who hates you,
Who doesn't respect you,
As long as you're no longer with them.
As long as you just try to keep on living your life,
Only see them in dreams.
Love can be fucked up that way.
Emotions like that are still not something I even come close to understanding.
But, I love my ferrets,
My surrogate children for the innumerable children I almost, but never, had...
They, those two fuzzy little weasels of mine,
Are my anchor to any kind of "Emotional stability,"
After my having spent a lifetime dealing with loss after loss...
Sometimes my own doing,
Sometimes not.
Shit happens.
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