The Dream of Being Seen-- Needing Others

So I started meditating last night, and I fell asleep. This is so not uncommon.  What was uncommon for me was the interaction I had with a person that I am familiar, as well as a complete stranger.  What was uncommon about that?  Dreams are like that, you say.  For me, dreams generally either replay what has occurred, often with alternate (read generally more favorable) outcomes, they are randomly associated with whatever personal issues I'm working on at the time, or they... well, they are dreams of extremely pleasurable activities. ;)

In this dream, I was talking to a friend.  Replaying some messages we had exchanged.  I was seriously considering the things he'd been asking me.  Things that I kept fairly closely guarded.  Why do I keep pushing people away?  Why do I "test" people?  Is it a deep-seated fear of abandonment?  Do I ever stop to let anyone take care of me or do I always just take care of others?  Don't I know I need to take care of me first?

These are things that he has tapped into.  He, like myself, is an empath.  Eerily, he often knows what I'm going to say before I do.  He's that good at it.  I say that with confidence, because I met him through a friend, and we have never met face to face.  Never heard each other's voices.  We just kind of "feel" each other.  There is no way he can "cold read" my body language.  He can't look into my eyes. He can't hear hesitations in my voice.  He can't be getting information from the friend who introduced us, because, while we are close, we don't have the same kinds of conversations.  Our mutual friend wouldn't really know these things.

In addition to this, I met a man who overheard our conversation.  Which is funny, since you can't overhear something that's being typed in private-- but I digress...  So this man was well-adjusted, and single.  He was previously divorced many years prior.  He said that when he'd been married, he felt that he could never please his wife.  That she'd always wanted more.  He felt that nothing he did was good enough.  Not because she'd told him that, but because she always seemed to him to be unsatisfied somehow.  He began to resent it.  The not being able to please her.  He tried harder and harder to make more money, buy her expensive gifts, cater to her every whim.  Yet, she still seemed unhappy.  Soon the resentment of the situation turned into resentment of her.  What did she want from him?  Blood?  He was killing himself trying to please her, and the (at this point) ungrateful bitch STILL wasn't happy.  They argued.  They screamed.  Finally, he couldn't take anymore, and he divorced her.

Now, you might think this is where the "taking care of yourself first" theme comes into play.  It is not.  He said that about ten years later, he found out that his ex-wife was terminally ill.  He hadn't had another long-term relationship since her, and he decided that he needed to find out just what it was he was incapable of providing to her all those years ago.  That maybe, in her pain, he could provide that one thing she so desperately needed. He went to see her.  Neither one had the strength to argue now.  And for himself, he asked.  What was it she was looking for all those years ago?  Money?  Children?  Property?  Power?  She simply replied, "all I wanted was to be seen."  He said it confused him and he asked her to explain.  She said that in all the years that they were married, had he ever noticed that she had his dinner waiting for him every night no matter what time he came home from work?  That the bed was made and turned down and ready for him?  That she made sure her hair was cut and styled on a regular basis ?  Or that she shopped regularly, but not extravagantly?  He, of course, had noticed all these things.  That's what women did. He noticed when she had her hair and nails done.  He noticed when she bought a  pretty new top. He noticed that she always had makeup on, and that she made his favorite dessert every Friday night.  What he failed to do is tell her that he noticed.  She thought she had become invisible. She never asked anything from him.  She had just hoped that one day he would take notice and see her.  Tell her that she had been seen.  He said that they had made their peace before she died, but he had a hard time forgiving himself.  All she wanted was right before him, and it would have cost nothing to give it to her.  BUT HE DIDN'T KNOW.  They were both at fault.  Her, for not telling him.  Him, for assuming what he never bothered to ask her about.

While I'm sure this is a metaphor for my own crumbling marriage, somehow.  I've decided that I don't ever want to be that person.  The person that has the capability to impact someone's life, but doesn't.  I give as wholly and freely as I can.  I test people.  I push them away.  Usually my testing helps push them away.  I don't let anyone take care of me.  Secretly, I guess that's my need.  My dream.  To test someone.  To push them away and without anything but love in their hearts, have them PUSH BACK.  Tell me that it doesn't matter how hard I try-- that they aren't going anywhere.  I've found two friends who do this.  Ultimately, I guess my goal is to find that in a partner. 

Like at the end of  Pretty Woman when Edward asks Vivian, "What happens after the prince rescues her?" She replies, "She rescues him right back."  That's the kind of love I'm looking for.  The kind where we look in each other's eyes and see.