When I dream, the sequences are fairly jumbled. I’ll only remember snatches of conversations or mere impressions of images or scenes.
A couple of days ago, I dreamed that I was back in therapy but this time I had a male doctor. A young, attractive male doctor. Wearing a nice suit. I suppose we were blatantly flirting with one another; in the back of my mind I knew it was unprofessional and wouldn’t do me any good in the long run.
He asked me out for coffee and I couldn’t prevent myself from answering in the affirmative.
That was it. In reality, I would never have been OK with a male therapist, and I certainly wouldn’t have flirted with another guy so shamelessly.
Nonetheless, I awoke feeling very pleased. I think it was simply the fact that a handsome stranger was very obviously attracted to me.