It was this dream this morning, in my second half-night of the night, and I guess the marriage question was quickly settled: some young man was about, gloriously dark-skinned, strapping and excess-limbed and long-back-ed, handsomer than really necessary, quiet-ish and unknown, and my father was reclining surrounded by me and a few people, and to me, near his head, to his left he said, "he is good for you" or "he'll be good for you" - something like that, and I said to be sure "who?" as there was another young man to his right, and he replied "behind you" and I was happy and said "me too" to mean that yes, I had thought too that he was, you know, nice (wink!),
and so I turned to the young man, probably not so young but that he was physically not aged, and said in my way of using complete openness to create humour that - everything we had just said, that my father had said he was good for me and I had said me too.
And that was that. Good vibes.
Well, maybe a few more scenes:
He had an earnest exchange with my dad in which he explained that he was not a person with money, you know, and my father said it wouldn't matter.
Another scene in which, well, that same day, he was going to go home, but he ended up sleeping over because he strangely remembered that he had no place to go. And then there was my mother and other people swirling about, and my mother was back to check on us in the morning too, and there was a general tranquil.
And instead of a house, it seemed as if all this happened in train cars, but a car/cabin/room we used was in part like the room I'm sitting in now, with a tiny sink and bathroom. And among the things I learned or knew about him was that he travelled, long, quirky trips, like weeks in some backwoods of China for instance. His back was turned to me in bed, while I sat up and talked and asked if I was talking too much or saying the wrong things or if all was right and good,
and one of the things I wondered later was whether it would be good to ask if I was good for him too, not just the other way around, and, you know, if he had other dreams, other plans, other interests, other tastes, a girl in his heart or mind, and yet, when you ask those things (and I am very comfortable with asking and being ruthlessly truthful about such ... preferences) you usually make the "relationship" disappear. Because maybe he liked a different girl or a different type of person, or maybe he liked to not know, about himself or about me. Or maybe in addition to being reserved, he was secretly pleased (he was), or maybe he was overwhelmed (yes, a little ridiculous how quickly it happened.)
I've forgotten the name now, but possibly a sorta Hausa dude, maybe like Hakeem? something with an M but not Mohammed or Mahmood I don't think, and not a long name, probably two syllables, which is funny to think that my father would try someone foreign, but I still sorta expected him to be culturally adept, sufficiently Yoruba, and I suspect not Muslim, and I suspect competently intelligent, (enough to accept me is what I usually look for, less about intelligent actions or expressions, more about how the intelligence in them creates an easy tolerance, capacity, understanding, and mutual trust)
and also after I'd thought about it for an hour or so I also sort of expected it all to not happen. I mean, unless he really wanted it, like, I don't know, no need to tie anyone down, even this imaginary brotha.
But then if my father had showed up later in real life and said, "ahem, what do you think about, ..." naming some guy I don't even know, I would not have been shocked that we had had the same, dream, thoughts.
Nowadays people care about sex a lot, it seems, but we didn't do it ok? We slept, we liked each other, and I can tell you about his back but I don't know below the waist and you know I tend not to be extremely curious about the particular anatomy, you know? Like if we're similarly interesting and disinterested in sex and so on, it will be alright. Or it won't. He'll be out travelling in rural Saskatchewan anyway, maybe I want to join him? Not? Ohhh, ohhh nooo.
Oh, I had another one. It was days ago, maybe weeks, very tall thin boy man and was possibly Ethiopian-like features, so not that absolute black skin. It was exciting to care enough about getting married to maybe start putting a face and/or body to the idea. Maybe this Obama book next to my bed is responsible for the East African highlander herdsman genes in the guy. And for the newer guy, I was watching movies and reading happy things late last night and someone mentioned sweet dreams to me or something of the sort. So I went on to have sweet dreams. In another one I was on a crowded train in like, Asia, with tropical heat, a cross-country train with many youthful students or intellectuals.
Conclusion: I am really not a marri-er and yet I'm still trying. Same with having children, I'm somewhat sure it's not meant to be and yet I would be happy if it was. Although I think one child is a no from me, there have to be multiple children so they can interact with one another because I'm not very interested in interacting that much. If that makes sense. If it doesn't, don't worry, my actual kiddies will understand.
Tips if you want the good and crazy dreams: Eat well and sleep extra.
I would like a palm-reader, a palm-reading. (That was also in a movie I was watching.)