Now, to the second part of my dream. . . .
I gaped behind glass, looking into an interrogation room. You were there, standing all rugged and dirty, just like when you used to get home from work. I could almost smell the dirt through the glass, that scent reminding me of sweat and skin. Your beard set a fire in my heart and I longed to see your surreal eyes gazing into mine even if for only a moment.
Two doors stood in front of you. They each had big signs hanging on them. The sign on the first door said: "LOVE (Your life with your soulmate)."
The second door said, "MONEY."
I knew then you'd been given the same choice I'd been faced with earlier. You could only pick one--have one or the other, no regrets . . . Money or me. My hand pressed against the glass that held the two of us apart. I looked at my thumb; even that reminded me of you, how both of us broke that same thumb and had a identically old scar between our thumb and index fingers. How we had so many things in common. Maybe that was another reason I'd picked a life with you over an eternity in Heaven. Our love meant that much to me, honestly.
But . . . what would you choose?
You walked up to the first door (LOVE) and touched the knob. I saw the memories at the same time that they flooded your mind's eye . . .
You held me in your arms in the back of my van and told me you'd always love me, always dreamed of a girl just like me.
You smiled at me as we ran through a golf course at night, ducks quacking at us from the edge of the course's pond.
We laughed, hiding side-by-side in a schooner at a restaurant's parking lot. Then hushed as a man passed, walking his dog. As soon as the coast was clear, we busted with laughter again--I still wonder if he saw us!
Country songs blared from your truck as you sang to me, holding my hand, telling me all the lyrics reminded you of "us" and our love.
Memory after memory flooded over you and me, at the same time and I couldn't help feeling hopeful. We were so damn connected, not even the glass could keep our minds from touching through those memories of the past. You would choose me, right; who would give that kind of chemistry and "kindred-ness" up?
But then you let go of the knob . . . and the memories stopped. You dusted off your pants and turned your back to the same door that meant more to me than eternal salvation.
Tears filled my eyes and I bit my lip. Somehow I knew you--I'd always known you and what your final choice would be--like we'd lived this exact moment a million times.
I took my hand from the glass.
Maybe . . . I'd never see those slate eyes looking tenderly at me again.
I'd never feel your thick hands around my tiny waist.
I'd never smell your sweat mixed with dirt and liquor . . . never again.
That's when you went to your second damn choice--MONEY.
You didn't even wait for a moment . . . killing me with every movement, just reaching out and twisting that damn knob. I felt like you murdered a part of me and no one even showed up to the funeral.
But even as your actions siphoned my breath, I couldn't help watching you, so handsome and determined, as you walked through to your true love.
Instead of picking me and everything we'd shared, you chose wealth, and I thought, Why am I so surprised?
You shut the door, a smile of greed and satisfaction still on your face, and I melted to the floor.
~~~"Oh, God," I cried out in my dream. "Oh, God. I feel so betrayed. I traded eternity . . . for him. I traded eternity . . . for nothing."
At that moment a hot breeze barreled through the room. My eyes remained shut, and I shook on the ground.
"You . . . feel betrayed?" a voice, more commanding than the ocean, boomed. "YOU feel betrayed? How do you think I feel? YOU traded an eternity in Heaven, for a mortal man!"
I quivered again. My eyes were still closed, but something was shining even through my lids. Then I quelled my own sobbing, gritted my teeth and gazed up, trying not to seem afraid.
A figure stood there, glowing brighter than the sun. I slammed my eyes shut again and the glow brightened so that his presence still blinded me!
"Yes!" I yelled, even though I should have stayed quiet. "I feel betrayed because I WAS betrayed! What's it to YOU?"
To read the final installment, please click HERE.