Dreaming of Toronto

Last night I had the strangest dream, and I blame this photo which I first saw on my friend Gail’s blog.

In my dream I was with my husband walking up some random street in Toronto.   All along the street people were playing games like basketball and all those dart throwing, ball chucking games that you see at the fair.  People were deliriously happy and as I walked along watching them my heart ached because I want to belong to this place again.

There was a woman with us.  She was tall, in a grey dress suit and glasses sort of like mine.  She wasn’t very friendly and didn’t like that I kept stopping to watch people play the games.  I ignored her though and kept turning to my husband and asking him if he finds this all as wonderful as I do.  To look at all we are missing out on.

It turned out that this lady was a real estate agent who was taking us to look at an apartment.   I was getting incredibly anxious because I didn’t want to look at a big, fancy, air conditioned, Canadian apartment that we will never have.  I didn’t see the point in torturing ourselves.  WHY go look at this place when we have no intention of ever living in it?

The lobby was glorious. Shiny, black marble floors with tons of space and huge windows looking out at the water.   From the front of the building we could see that we were not too far from the CN Tower.   I didn’t want to go in, but I followed them anyway.

When we got to the apartment door, my heart was in my throat because I knew if I saw it I would beg and plead with my husband to stay there.  To just drop everything and stay in this beautiful place that feels so familiar and so RIGHT to me.  It made me ache though because I knew that no matter how much I loved it, it would never be enough to make him want to live there too.

When we walked in, I was confused.  It was a small, outdated, dingy apartment with a bed in the living room, a disgusting little bathroom off the kitchen that was separated only by a shower curtain for a door.   It smelled funny and everything in there was various shades of green.

I thought to myself that it was sort of funny, how I’d built it up in my head to be this wonderful thing, and it turned out to be so much less than I had imagined it to be.   I was torn between the feeling of wanting to be back in Toronto and the realization that it may not be all I remember it to be.

The apartment had a big balcony and when I stepped outside I saw a city bathed in sunshine with stunning buildings and streets busy with people playing games and enjoying themselves.   When I looked inside all I saw was a dreary apartment that I wouldn’t want to spend an hour in, let alone a lifetime.

My husband had a sort of I told you so look on his face, which infuriated me.  A look that told me that he knew that it was a waste of time even coming to look.

In a way I felt like this was my only chance to plead my case and show him how different things could be, and instead it turned out to be worse somehow.  I felt like I just couldn’t win, ever… with anything.

That’s all I remember.

Not sure what it all means, but it was a dream that made me wake up feeling sad and like I’m missing out on something, somewhere.   A different life than I have now.   I hate that feeling because I know that no matter where I am, I want to be with my husband… but sometimes, especially with dreams like this, I am left wondering how life might be different if we had made a few different decisions along the way.

I will shake it off, as I usually do… by reminding myself of how lucky I am to have such a wonderful husband, the opportunity to see the places I’ve seen and do some of the things I’ve done.   I guess I’m just waiting for a time when I don’t have to do that anymore, when I am not haunted by the what if’s.