Dream a little Dream of me

Not too long ago I dreamed of J, I was crying good and loud in his arms. That felt very good, I only wish I get dream like that more often. It felt good because I was with him again, you know, literally with him - in his arms. From that experience I think I understand why people go to the medium to talk to their departed loved ones...you miss someone so much that you'd do anything just to 'see' him and 'talk' to him again.

Everything has been working out just grand in his absence. I can't say if I have willed everything to turn out this wonderful for me, single-handedly...me - manifested the whole series of good things. It's not my nature to think that naturally.

But when I stop and ask myself, then what did? I couldn't see other reason or cause of event other than the cause of ME. It's too funny. I had spent the good whole eight years of our relationship dedicating all my gratitude for all the good things in my life to having met him and made him loved me. And now, still living in the shadow of our memories, I think I have taken over the entire responsibility of my mental and household welfare and sanity, among other things.

That's a potentially really stupid statement, how else would a person NOT be responsible for her own welfare? That was me, the last nine years or so, thinking that he was my universe which has provided me with all the most important things for a person's welfare in many ways. I learned to drive because he made me go to driving school. I left my day job to be a singer because he took my hand and told me he would help me in all that he can until I could stand on my own. He went house shopping with me and gave me a home in this wonderful down town flat.

Anyone could have done all of that by herself and more. Well, I had him.

Then, as if I was possessed, I started taking charge of my own business. As if I had just been given my first magic wand and a book of spell, I start to cast wonderful things all over me.

(Including going to bed at 4am!)

I cooked a big pot of courage and started getting myself somewhere with my music.  I invite myself to the stage of KL's most prestigious jazz bars.  I start singing songs that I didn't dare dream of performing.  I started to say yes to travelling.  I started to scat at performances.  I start to read more, and listen more.  I started going to jazz gigs a lot more, alone, to just listen, and learn.

And the rest of the movement just followed.  I started getting more bookings, more frequently...etc.  A whirl of new activities came and more new ones followed.

Amidst the buzz of things I would feel a hungry yearning, a throbbing desire to talk to him, to hold him and make him see my life now, and wanting to seek his approval in all I do. I would sometimes stop in the track and look out somewhere, hoping to catch a glimpse of him somewhere so I can look him in the eye and say, "See, am a clever girl.