I Go Back…

There is a Kenny Chesney song called “I Go Back” which is about music and how a song can spark a memory from years past.  I blared the song Sunday as I took a shower.  I sang out loud (even though I knew my daughter would be laughing on the other side of a very thin wall and that my neighbors above were being serenaded against their will).  I live for, in and wrapped around nostalgia.  Why?  What am I trying to remember?

I woke from a dream early this morning.  I looked at the alarm clock which read 4:15 in a blaring, non-friendly red and then fell back onto my pillow trying to piece together the dream I had been pulled from.  It was bizarre.  I had been dreaming of driving in an old car (think 1960’s land yacht) with the mother of the boy I lost my virginity to.  We drove past his grandmother’s house only to see him splitting wood in tight shorts.  His very masculine form was not like I had remembered at all.  He looked up from his work and smiled over to me through the windshield of the car in which I was sitting.  I looked away quickly.  His mother crooned, ‘He is looking at you.’ I replied, “Yeah, but I have no makeup on so I am not looking back.’

The dream was over, my snoring had woke me again (yes, I snore so bad that I wake myself up – it is a curse, a fixable curse but a curse the same).

I am thinking of the blue shorts he was wearing (not in a dirty way).  The color was blazing against the rest of my dreams.

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