Funny things dreams. Truthfully I wonder at them. Sometimes they have significance, and other times, I think we put too much stock in the interpretation of them. Honestly.
Dreams, are just that. Dreams. Not reality. Of course, in order to make a dream reality, you have to have it first. Maybe I'm just too cynical.
But as for my experience, dreams show something, some part of yourself, that maybe you didn't see before. But to have dreams for others? I don't know. I don't know if I put much stock in that. Maybe it's just because I've had so many people telling me what to do, how and where they see me. I still balk. And freak out. Is this wrong? Is it wrong that I instinctively get turned off when someone tells me they have had a dream about.... something or another concerning me. That's their perspective of me. Not actually me.
I don't know. I don't know if it's wrong of me, to be like that. It also hasn't happened with some people. Maybe it's trust? Why do I trust one, and not another? Should I trust one the same as the other? My heart says no. I guess I should just listen a little more to it.
I'm too much of a person who tries to please others. And then I turn around and look at it all. The hurt I've caused by opening my big mouth and talking. The expectations, the unsaid ones. Those frighten me. The silences that have taken place of what used to be conversation. Because somehow words don't matter anymore. When it comes down to it all, actions are the truest witness.
Anyway, just thinking out loud I guess.