Dream Conclusion

Do you remember that dream question I wrote about in my May entry? If you're new you can go back and read it. I think it's somewhere around the 18th of May...anyway, I did come to a conclusion. An anonymous "Rusty" is the one that I think came pretty close as he/she said in the comments section:

"The fear of leaving things behind may not be the worst one, but for sure is the one more able to destroy our present – I mean making you unable to live it full force! The ability to live the present is probably the life itself, anyway, but a recurrent dream tie us to the past just because we want it, I think. In the end, it's always us: it can be scary to think we're not so different from 20 years ago, but it's always scary when you're TRULY in touch with youself, isn't it! hugs! Rusty"

I read that over and over. I thought about it a lot. Like three months worth of thinking. It's sort of hard to explain the whole thing without going into a huge autobiographical entry about my life, which could be boring and over dramatic. Then again I don't want to not complete the May entry, so I'll just try and keep it short.

I had one of those typical write-a-book-about-it childhoods...Mother dies in car crash when I was ten, alcoholic, separated father who works night shifts left with four children to care for on his own. He remarries twice to the wrong women, all within four years. I left home when I was sixteen and managed to finish high school and get a B.A. all on my own.

I had lived in Italy for a year after high school and then a year in college and I decided to go back there to work for a few years after I finished school. Everything had been so difficult up to that point that I just remembering thinking to myself - from now on life is just going to be grand! And it was for a while. I had a nice job and a boyfriend and I was young and living in Europe. But I never really thought that I would stay, I just wanted to play for a few years and then I'd go back home...
...and then my little brother died in a car crash and I just wanted to run away. I went back to Mill Valley for the funeral and we spread his ashes on top of Mt.Tamalpais and he was gone. I went back to Italy and picked up my plans to move to San Diego with my then boyfriend...but now I didn't want to go back. I just wanted to avoid reality for a bit and pretend that nothing ever happened. What happened was I fell apart. Before Billy's death I felt like I had already paid my karmic dues. As if all the bad things that were supposed to happen had been put into this little package that lasted until I was 21 and then after that I wouldn't have any more worries. Well, now I know that life doesn't exactly work that way, but it was a little more difficult for me to take when I was younger.
So the boyfriend moved to San Diego and I stayed at my job in Italy. It payed well and I liked it and I met another guy, and another...and all of the sudden I had a job in television, then modeling, and a few years went by and then a few more and then it gets to a point where it's more difficult to go back and start over again than stay where you are.

Twenty eight years have passed since I came to Italy. I've spent more time here than I have in the States. But there was never a moment when I ever said to myself "Okay, this is where I want to stay. This is my home."

Since I came upon this realization some of my attitude has changed.

More importantly, I've stopped having the dream.