Brown Spots On Bananas

Last night I dreamed about Michael. He was sitting at our dining room table in that way that he used to ~ up straight, legs crossed, arms across his chest ~ with that look on his face ~ flat features, condescending and accusing eyes, unmoving. There was a bowl of bananas in front of him and he was very calmly and precisely blaming me for the brown spots that covered them.

There is a ridiculousness to this scene that is only the stuff of dreams.

Yet this is the same ridiculousness that permeated his past accusations of me in our bad days. In my dream, I stood before him, flabbergasted, enraged, incredulous....deeply hurt. F-ing this, F-ing that. I can't believe you're blaming ME for the brown spots on these bananas! What's wrong with you? Seriously...what the F is WRONG WITH YOU?!?

But, there he sat. Unmoved. Unwilling. Absolutely convinced. Every word I said reflected back to me in his blank stare. It didn't matter what I said. I was done.

Obviously, there's still some deep hurt and anger within me that needs healing.

You may be reading this and thinking, "Holy S***! She's still hurt and angry after all this time? That doesn't sound very comforting."

I know. I get it, I really do. Here's the thing though. I told Michael about my dream when I woke up this morning. He didn't get defensive. He didn't justify. He didn't break out a laundry list of everything he's been doing over the last several years to bring healing to my heart. He quietly said, "It's not over yet." I know he means that my healing isn't over yet. He gets it. He's still in it with me.

I know this about him - about his commitment level and at that point it would have been horribly easy (fear of intimacy on my part) to leave it there and stuff the sadness, hurt and anger I was feeling, hop out of bed and go start some coffee. I didn't though. I cried ~ a lot ~ which was big for me because it would have been so much easier to put up a wall and keep Michael at a distance. Instead, I let myself trust him. I let myself be vulnerable. And guess what? The walls didn't cave in on me...Michael didn't run away or shut me down. He let me cry, held me and reassured me of his love for me; expressing sorrow over the shameful way he treated me in our bad days.

I know there's more healing and growing to come for us both and I'm SO blessed that Michael is willing to live this out with me. And you know what's cool? The bananas resting in our fruit bowl right now are a deep, golden yellow.

Not a spot to be seen.

I checked. I'm silly like that.