I had these dreams last night that have kept me feeling really off and disturbed all day. Maybe there are things brewing under the surface that haven't broken into my consciousness yet, but I know I'm feeling really off and need my space right now.

The first one, my conscious self decided that I needed to experience the immediate inevitability of death (it was like I was conscious before the dream started). Then I went into this museum where they were showing executioner's equipment. I was with a tour group or something, but they separated me from the group and said that I was scheduled to be executed because people have to be sacrificed at random for the good of the whole. They showed me this machine that was like a guillotine, except it cuts people in half and they bleed to death. It was supposedly much worse than a regular guillotine because you are conscious longer before you die. As they prepped me, the executioner explained that the person lays down and then they douse their torso with boiling water to burn away the skin and fat that may inhibit the blade's ability to cut through the body cleanly. They laid me down and I was terrified, and kept trying to imagine what it would feel like at each point of the procedure, and ultimately, what it would feel like to die. The executioner took pity on me and instead of dousing me with boiling water, he poured a bowl of water that was only lukewarm. But then the blade rushed down and cut me in half.

Then I was bumped into another dream...like it was another life.

In this one, I was in a good place in my life, and I was living back in a college town where I was comfortable, making money and ultimately happy. Brian lived with me in this dreamscape as he does in real life. There's this little corner diner that we loved to go to in the dream, a place where we could hang out, mess around and everyone was cool. It was a comfortable space. I think I may have owned it.

One day, this guy I used to date walked in. We had run into each other in real life a few weeks ago and it was a bit of a shock to the system because after a while, you forget (or force yourself to forget) that certain people even exist anymore. So he walks in in my dream and it's like that scene all over again. We see each other and we're both caught off guard; out of the pure reflexivity of honesty, we're civil and a bit happy to see each other because it's like seeing someone you used to care about, even if a lot of bad things happened to bury that connection. He looked tired and worn out from life and it truly made me sad. I asked him how our boss was doing (we used to work together) and he said, "Good," paused, then said, "Actually, not so good. He was just diagnosed with a brain tumor." This hit me hard because as awkward as things were left between my boss and I, it really devastated me that he would be going through that experience, as much that he was in pain as it brought to forefront the reality that just by being born, we're all destined for some very difficult, devastating times.

As this person and I stood across from each other, I think our brains started catching up with our messy emotional history, and I remembered how much anger I had towards him. As the hate crept back (and I could see him shoring up his own defenses), I just said goodbye and left.

I was walking home when it began to rain. Since I had previously been at the gym, I was only wearing shorts and a t-shirt and it was very cold. I had gone down a long way when he happened to drive by. He offered me a ride and even though I wanted to be proud and decline, it also seem fated that this interaction with him was necessary, that it was the universe moving us together for us to finalize closure.

He drove me home and I still had a lot of anger swirling around in my head--I was being catty and passive aggressive with my comments. I think he got irritated too so when his phone rang (the ring was "Naughty Girl" by Beyonce), he picked it up and said, "Oh hi [his girlfriend at the time we last spoke years ago]," like she was so important to him, even though I knew they were broken up. So we get to my place and I jump out of the car, slamming the door and saying, "Have a great life." Totally bitchy. But then I hesitated. I was thinking, for better or worse, this is my chance at closure, and I would be spiting myself if I walked away from it. He must have seen me hesitate because he broke the moment down to the truth. "I've missed you, too," he said. It was the one thing I could never have brought myself to admit.

I got back into the car and what followed was kind of an emotional epilogue--I knew that life was not about all the things that derail a relationship or make it messy, not about who the people are as their manifestations in this lifetime, but about something deeper that connects us. I think we really do recognize people we were once very close to in a past life or in another manifestation, and I think it's very hard and confusing when society prevents these people from being close to one another, or when it keeps them from ever being truthful to each other. I think the very inherent loss that comes with being born is something that tinges my personal human experience and my outlook on life. I'm always searching for those connections that remind me of something that was so beautiful and safe and whole a long time ago, but no matter what, I still can't remember what it is exactly. It's always on the edges of my mind, just out of my grasp, driving me crazy, because in some way, I suspect it's the key to my own complete inner unity and peace.

I think at the end of the day, none of this really matters. All it is after all the smoke clears and the mirrors are boxed up and carted away is that connection between people. And as more and more things disrupt our daily lives and cause us to challenge the things that we value or use as currency within our society, all the facades and trivialities will be stripped away and only the truth that exists in the honest most basic connections between people will be revealed as the only thing that has absolute value.