Dream Journal: 06 May 1996 "My God You're Back!"

As Carolina stood naked next to a bed, facing me, I looked at her sleek cinnamon-skinned body which seemed perfect in every way. I was immediately aroused, which surprised me a little, since it seemed as if we had just made love the day before yesterday, and that yesterday I had expended myself by masturbating. Yet when I looked at her I felt no doubt that I was again ready to make love.


Carolina and I were staying in a hotel or resort. As I sat on the floor outside in the corridor, I knew Carolina was in the room in which we were staying at the end of the hall, waiting for me to return and make love with her. I wanted to go to her; only I was facing a dilemma which I first needed to resolve.

Sitting in chairs around me were several fellows who had been observing me and were aware of my problem. When I had first come to this resort, I had met another woman (about 20 years old) who had begun flirting with me in an unusually blatant fashion. I had found the woman quite attractive -- she resembled the actress Sharon Stone, except that this woman had black hair. She had pressed against me in the most aggressive fashion, even unbuttoning the top button of her blue jeans, clearly demonstrating her desire to immediately go to bed with me. I had gone no further than allowing myself to give her a couple short kisses. Then she had retreated to her room, at the opposite end of the hall from where Carolina was, to wait for me.

Now as I sat on the floor, debating whether I should go to the woman, I realized the fellows sitting in chairs around me had been observing me all along, trying to see what I would do. That fact in itself seemed a little strange to me, and I didn't know what these fellows had to do with anything. Perhaps it was all an elaborate trap, to see how I would react if a beautiful woman were to throw herself on me. Or perhaps the woman had simply found me attractive. After all, I wasn't bad looking, and it was possible that a woman could be irresistibly attracted to me. Or maybe the woman was simply a nymphomaniac who lived here in the resort and continually behaved this way with new guests. Perhaps her father even owned the resort.

As so many alternatives floated through my mind, I simply couldn't resolve the question of what I was going to do. Finally an overweight fellow sitting in the chair on my left, a fellow who resembled Newman (the character played by the actor Wayne Knight in the television series "Seinfeld"), looked down at me and asked, "How do you feel?"

I responded that I felt pretty bad. Mainly I felt bad because I had kissed the woman, and I knew by doing so I had betrayed Carolina. Now I didn't know if Carolina would ever forgive me. I thought I would have to tell Carolina – perhaps she even already knew. Since I had never done such a thing before, I was uncertain how Carolina would react. It was entirely possible that she would completely leave me. That would be devastating. I tried to think of what I would do if I knew she had kissed someone else. I knew I would be upset, but I didn't think I would leave her over something so small. Now I could only hope that she felt the same way.

At least one thing was now clear in my mind: I wasn't going to return to the other woman. I even began feeling some strength from this realization, as if by not returning to the woman I had passed some kind of test. So to sum up how I felt, and referring to the fact that I hadn't returned to the other woman, I looked up at the fat fellow and said, "I haven't gone yet."

All the fellows sitting around me seemed to think that if I hadn't gone back to the woman, then perhaps there was someone else who might interest me more. They indicated that perhaps I might even like to be with a man. The fat fellow on my left looked down at me with a wry smile and asked, "Do you like me?"

At first I was taken aback by the question, unsure how to respond. But suddenly I burst out in a long deep laugh, actually doubling over several times in a fit of laughter. The way the fellow had posed his question, and the absurdity of the whole idea had struck me as incredibly funny. Only when I finally regained my composure did I again look at the fat fellow and realize that although he had spoken in jest, he had actually been half serious. The guy really was gay, and apparently had hoped there was some chance that I might go for him. I guessed he just couldn't see how ridiculous the idea was to me.

Suddenly my attention was diverted to something else. Another person had hurriedly sat down next to me on my left. I looked at the person and gasped, "My God, you're back! But you're all snotty and hot!"

Was this the woman I had been with before? It seemed this was the person with whom I had been – but this wasn't a woman, this was a man. He was a scrawny skinny little fellow (about 20 years old). Still I recognized him as the person with whom I had been involved. I knew my contact with this person had only been slight, but to think that I had been involved in any way was extremely disgusting. He looked as if he were all hot and sweaty from some just-completed sex episode. I shrank away from him, not wanting him to even touch me in any way. The worst part, when I looked at his face, was his nose, in which I could see snot caked on the interior walls of his nostrils.

And yet I had nothing to fear from this fellow. He had no hold on me, and I proceeded to ignore him.

I looked out the window (it appeared to be on the second floor) and saw a large lawn below outside. A strong looking well-dressed man was setting up metal folding chairs on the grass. Seeing this reminded me that I had actually come to this place to go to some kind of classes, classes which apparently were going to be held outside on the lawn. It looked inviting out there, and I tried to remember what day it was. Finally it came to me that it was the first Monday in May. It was the beginning of a week in spring and it looked as if it were going to be a beautiful day. I now felt ready to get up, go outside, and start learning something. It looked as if it were going to be a good week after all.

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