Dearest Rachel -
Last night found me waking up in pitch darkness; not an unusual occurrence here, as I've mentioned before. I do think that it's not so much a case of "still being on Central time," as I've claimed in the past. I think my routine of working out right after dinner, while conscientious and vigorous (and thus commendable – honestly, I really didn't expect to be able to keep up this routine as consistently as I have; thank heavens for apps that have those back home monitoring my activity, and keeping me on track by dint of me simply being aware of that. Heisenberg's principle works well in human interactions, too; we act differently when we believe we are being watched, whether we really are or not) might be the main factor, as once I wash off (either in the pool, the hot tub or the shower) afterwards and return to my cabin, that's pretty much the end of the day for me. And that's just too early in the evening for me to be doing that, especially if I want to sleep in.
Even now, after having dictated these notes and rolled over to go back to sleep, I'm up before seven (ship time), editing and adding to those murmured notes. That's practically noon back at home, so I'm pretty sure I've adjusted – mostly – from Central time. It's just that my evening routine leads me toward a lifestyle that, I suppose, would have Ben Franklin beaming with pride, anyway, but has me wondering what else to do with myself for the next few hours, as even the restaurants aboard ship aren't open yet (not that I should spend too much time there, anyway, unless I want to undo my hard work from last evening).
At least I have my letters to you, if nothing in terms of videos from yesterday. There's not much to report, as the sea has been particularly calm. In fact, the table observed at dinner last night that the wake we were producing was rolling out as if we were sailing in a sea of syrup. The flow away from us was smooth and slow, like liquid mercury, shining in the setting sun. I suppose I could have made a video about how preternaturally calm it was, and relate it to the day at large, but after having edited and published those from Pape'etē, I admit to not having felt much like it at the time. Besides, the others at the table told me that the sea was much like this as they were approaching Antarctica, as well. I'm not sure if there's a connection, here…
In any event, I can keep busy by writing to you, especially as it's been such a long time since I told you about any dreams that I've had. I think that it's mostly because I'm too busy just experiencing life to actually have dreams worth telling you about, but since I'm caught up with one thing in another at this point, I can actually tell you about this one.
The thing is, I don't remember a lot of the details – which is why I was dictating everything immediately upon waking as opposed to trying to go right back to sleep, because it was clear to me even in that moment that it was about to fade from my memory. Were I to go back to sleep without writing this down, it was obviously going to disappear completely from my mind, leaving me with nothing to tell you about once I did regain consciousness for real.
It was also one of those dreams that makes you wonder if it's supposed to mean something; especially since what content I could remember didn't seem to bode well for my future. In it, I was meeting this girl (again, bear in mind that when I say "girl" here, I mean someone younger than myself – a "girl," to me, could easily be in her fifties, like yourself) for a date at something like a county fair. Maybe it was like that one time I doing exactly that at a festival in Schaumburg a couple years back. Apparently we had this planned for a couple of weeks, and for a while, I think both of us were looking forward to it, but by the time the day arrived, it was obvious that her heart wasn't in it. We wandered around the place, making desultory conversation, but everything felt just a little awkward. I don't think she had said anything to me about it at this point, but it was also clear to me that she didn't want to be there.
Finally, she broke the silence, with something of an apology for the fact that the date was going so poorly. "This just isn't working out," she said. She didn't give any more details than that, either. At which point, there really wasn't anything for me to do. I had to let her leave: trying to continue would've just made things worse. If it's been established that it isn't going to work, why prolong the discomfort for either of us?
I made my way to my car, only to see you waiting for me. Well, not so much waiting for me, but clearly waiting there. You had this thousand-yard stare, off into the distance, not at me. You acknowledged my presence, still without looking at me, and I invited you to ride with me, to which you consented and got in.
"Are you going to be okay?" I asked. It's not like you to be so quiet or look so sad for so long; clearly something was wrong, and I didn't know what.
But as with Amy, or Ann, or whatever her name was, you took a long time to respond. And now that I've woken up, I can't remember what that response was. It may have been that you were sad for me, that I couldn't seem to make any other connections with anybody. It may have been that you were wistful about having been left behind while I attempted to pursue others (not that I was having much success, mind you, which ought to have cheered you up, right?). Either way, you were clearly upset about it, and there wasn't anything I could do about it – perhaps because I wasn't in the best of moods, either, having just been effectively dumped myself.
But because I couldn't tell why you seemed so shellshocked – and the two options I can think of are for very much the opposite reasons – I don't know what this means for me in the waking world, or if it should mean anything at all. Is your presence something that others can sense within me, and they're put off by it? Does it bother you that I'm trying to move on? Or does it upset you that I can't seem to find anyone else, when I know how much you loved me – do you find yourself wondering why they can't find the same thing in me that drew you to me? I wish I knew, especially considering that this dream hits painfully close to real life; not that I'm going to do anything about it for the next couple of months, anyway.
I'm not the sort to hold someone accountable for what they did, said or thought in my own dreams, but I do find myself wishing that I knew what it was in this case. But these are answers I know I'm not going to get, and so, I have to live with that for now. Anyway, as I go about life in the waking world again, keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I'm going to need it.
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