I was in a room with large windows and it looked like I was on a college campus. The room was cluttered and lit by fluorescent light. It was a cloudy evening and there were a lot of people outside walking to wherever they needed to be. I was practicing lead guitar, playing my red Peavey along with a Roger Waters CD - the one with Eric Clapton. The dream switched and I was “upstairs” in a kitchen that resembled the kitchen at 22 Cambridge Place in Englewood Cliffs. The windows were the same. I continued to practice, ignoring the person behind me, Amina, who was doing something like washing dishes. Generally, what happened next was that she finished what she was doing and came over. Waleed was there somewhere. I think we exchanged words, we were very close and finally it was too much and we unwillingly kissed, I don’t remember if she was crying. We kept kissing, trying to resist and I woke up. I gasped her name.
I’ve selectively forgotten all the reasons why I should hate Amina; the things she did. I know now I still love her and that we never closed and I will continue loving her until we do. I doubt we ever will. That dream. It was more my fantasy than an expression of reality.
I can’t imagine crying for or about Amina. I really don’t feel much of anything anymore. I don’t know if that’s because of Amina. I don’t get attracted to people anymore. I do still find people attractive, but I have no desire to get to know people better or let them know me. I don’t get attracted to anyone to the extent that I would put effort into spending time or getting to know them better. There is nothing in people for me to be attracted to.
