Last night I dreamed of Levi again. This time I dreamed that I was in Los Angeles with my friends, and that Levi came to visit us.

It was just like old times, with drinks, conversation, laughter, and music. Except that I was not the old, naive me, I was the new me, the older, wiser, mother of an almost two year old boy whose father abandoned him. That version of me.

I like her so much more.

In the dream we are at this party and we finally sit down to have dinner. Levi is sitting across from me, and I am struck with the realization that I don't feel anything; no pain, no anger, no emotion what so ever. I marvel at that for a second, and then feel giddy.

Then, he stares at me. Stares right into my eyes.

And it hits me.

That disgusting raw feeling, that feeling like you've been socked in the stomach; it’s the feeling that comes when you have pain, disappointment, anger, pity, and hurt all rolled into one.

Then the tears come and I try to hold them back as I excuse myself from the table.

In my dream, Levi followed me outside and we talked. In my dream he told me that he was sorry that he failed me, that he missed me.

In reality, I know he would never do that.

I woke up again thinking, What the hell is the matter with me?

Then I realized that I've done this before. See here.

It seems that since my divorce, every time I have an opportunity to have a somewhat serious relationship with another man — a man I really like — I dream of Levi, and I start having serious doubts.

I'm glad that I've noticed the pattern. It helps that I’ve been blogging about this, so there’s a record, and I can recognize these patterns.

Even if I'm still unclear as to what it all means.