Dream of the 2nd Time We Met - ~12 y.o.- ~1998

The actual first dream I had featuring A. pertains to the chronological second time we met. I had it when I was about 12 years old, around 1998. I know this because I remember the bed I was sleeping in. The timing is however a rough estimate. I do however believe that it was roughly after I had suffered my first heartbreak. I was starting to heal, and dream of love again.

What I do know for certain is that this time in my life was plagued by dreams with that entity, to a point where I became scared to go to sleep at night.

For clarity, the dream covered just a narrow portion of our 2015 reality. Even if only a snippet, the details are distinctive enough to leave little room for doubt as to its precognitive nature.

***

One night, I dreamt I was in a dimly lit room, looking at a dark-haired man, with black eyes and full lips who sat across from me on a red velvet chaise-longue. I think I was a little afraid at first, as I was aware I was in a dream, but I soon relaxed as I seemed to be in a very normal looking room. The setting while not unusual, struck me a little futuristic. It may have been the chaise-longues. I had only seen them in movies and it all looked very posh to me. I also remember mapping the man's face. It was very distinctive.

After scanning my environment a little I thought there was nothing that was signaling threat to me. I felt relieved it wasn't another nightmare. I remember I was enjoying his company, and noted he seemed like a very interesting man. It felt as if we were on a date of sorts, and I remember thinking he was different than the boys I usually liked. I think I once again had a tiny glimpse it was set in the future, but I couldn't picture it. Where would I meet a man like that, who lived in a house like that? It seemed completely divorced from my reality. I remember he was saying something, and I was enjoying his presence.

After a while, it slowly started dawning on me that I was in yet another dimly lit environment, in the presence of a man with black eyes, and full lips. I started to panic a little inside. It seemed just too mellow, and nothing out of the ordinary, so I wasn't really understanding the existence of such a dream. Nothing special was happening in it. I began worrying this was yet another nightmare, and the man that sat across from me was that entity trying to create a false sense of safety, to lure me into God knows what twisted scenario.

I became increasingly terrified of the possibility this dream was potentially the climax to all the taunting I experienced in previous nightmares. I consciously woke up from it.

My mind read it as the most fearful nightmare I had up until that point.

After I allowed myself to relax into the safety of my bed, I started questioning the fear I felt. My dream was indeed set in yet another dimly lit environment, but it was merely a room. It was futuristic to my perception, but not disconnected from the world I knew, and the man did nothing wrong; then again I thought I didn't allow the dream to go far enough.

For a little while, I thought that maybe, if I was to go back to sleep, the dream will resume. I'd had such experiences with dreams before; I would wake up, only for the dream to continue where it left off once I drifted back to sleep. I thought that if the dream was to continue where it left off, I could maybe investigate a little, but the possibility of that man being the devil was too terrifying. That night, I needed to at least pretend it wasn't a nightmare. I left it at surreal. My mind made a connection to surrealism in art, and I fell back asleep.

The dream stayed with me, and its memory would come back occasionally.

I remembered it, when I realised it was because of it, that I fell in love with chaise-longues, which had me place one even in bathrooms whenever I would decorate my houses in The Sims game.

I remembered it, when I mentioned it to a psychic in a chat room, or when I was recounting it to friends.

The last time I mentioned it was in 2013, when I referred to A./the man in my dream, as the Devil. I remember saying 'The Devil was sitting on a red velvet chaise-longue, right across from me.'. Right after I said this to my friend, I remember I felt guilty, as if I was unfair; I, then proceeded to feel silly for worrying about a label I placed on a man from a dream I didn't know how else to classify but as a nightmare.

Meeting A. the 2nd time

I recovered much of my memory of that night, but it remains hazy and maybe broken in places. This was the part of our interactions that affected me the most, resulting in near complete loss of memory. Unlike all other parts of my experience, I only started writing about this night about two months ago now. It was much more fragmented and incomplete than this, but as I became able to let myself feel through more of my feelings the memory of the night became less fragmented. This is the form it has now.

I do have a rough timeline, but parts of it still feel raw and vague. That entire night I would get lost in my thoughts - either trying to find words for what I needed to say, or sometimes even wondering if I was in immediate danger. It wasn't him I feared. Not at all actually.

While I didn't feel fear of him - the person I had met, I am not sure I can adequately express how it feels to find yourself literally re-living a nightmare. It felt like two layers of reality were running at the same time, and then collapsing into one. I was at the same time facing the reality in my dream, the man I believed to carry my essence, the Devil archetype, or maybe both. I was living through all these realities at once, and the night was a struggle for me.

By that second night I had already decided before seeing him that I needed to talk to him about it all. I saw no way around it. I believed that by engaging in an act of authentic self-expression for my state and experience around him, it would allow the deeper truth of our connection to reveal itself. I also believed it would serve as protection if it was a worst case scenario type of circumstance.

While I was aware of the irrationality of him being the literal embodiment of the Devil, I was aware that he could be or become the vehicle through which the Devil archetype could manifest into my life. I believed this could potentially be the case regardless of his quality as a human being, and the quality of his character.

It was something I sincerely felt I needed to engage in, given the nature of my experience with him until that point. I wasn't wanting to offend him, and in a different context I wouldn't have brought it up on our second date. This however wasn't just a second date for me.

I took everything into consideration, including the fact that it would surely be a sensitive subject. I was aware of the social context and the possibility that his life experience may have been marked by prejudice around his Muslimness. While I was aware of this possibility, I also only had a very vague idea surrounding the cultural context of Muslimness in British society. At the time, I didn't see how I could avoid the subject given the circumstances. I also did my due diligence in trying to make sure my need didn't stem from a space of unconscious prejudice. I went over it again and again, and I concluded that I would have felt the same need to touch on the subject of my spiritual experience had he been Christian, Mormon, or Buddhist in that context. Because I was fresh after my spiritual experience, and I had yet to articulate it like I can today, short of laying out the patterns in the structure of my experience, I did not know how else to communicate what I needed from him to feel safe, or why I believed we may share the same essence. I also believed that given the context was I to suppress what felt like a need to talk to him about it, would have been prejudiced in essence.

***

I remember stepping into his living room. I recall passing by a table that was pushed against the wall. On it there were all sorts of crystals on display. They were in their raw form. I couldn't help but notice them. I had only seen such crystals in that raw form in my parents living room.

As we were both passing by that table he turned on a lamp. It was either a table lamp, or maybe a floor lamp next to the table.

There were two chaise longues in the middle of the living room. A brown leather one, and a red velvet one. I think he told me to choose whichever I liked. I chose the brown leather one only because velvet used to be unpleasant for me to the touch.

I think he wanted to join me on the brown leather one, but I nudged him to sit on the other one, unaware of the connection to my dream. That dream was nowhere near my awareness. He sat on the red velvet one, but I still wasn't triggered to remember the dream.

That night I told him early on that I was scared, and that I was trying to block the connection. I was only wanting to pace myself, because it was all very overwhelming for me. It all felt surreal right from the start.

He then got up to turn on another lamp behind me. Him getting so close to me made me feel overwhelmed. I wasn't thinking that he was the Devil. Quite the opposite - I was thinking same soul as he was passing by. The fear pushed back, as I was somehow afraid it wasn't real. It all felt incredibly overwhelming. As he was turning on the lamp behind me, he looked at me and bit his lip. His gesture made things more intense for me, and I think that was the moment I started spewing light, truth, and maybe even God. The point of no return.

It was only after the light behind me was lit, and he sat down that the memory of the dream kicked in. All of a sudden, I realised I was in the same dimly lit room from my dream, looking at that same man who was sitting on a red velvet chaise longue, right across from me.

For a moment, I felt terrified. What was an already overwhelming experience intensified exponentially the moment I remembered my dream.

I remember I started to constantly lose myself in thoughts, which he noticed. I was trying to decipher if there was more to the dream. I was trying to assess if I was in immediate danger. I was now not only re-living a nightmare, but re-living yet another nightmare who had A. as a central figure. And even more than this, this time around I was re-living a nightmare that had me grow up attaching the Devil label to A. specifically. In this moment every trace of reason left me, and I was starting to fear the possibility that the man in front of me was the literal embodiment of the Devil out to get me.

My spiritual experience came with the awareness that the Devil as an antithesis to God does not exist, but the fear was so overwhelming that I couldn't help, but seriously take the possibility that I was wrong about the existence of the Devil as the villain, into consideration. I looked for ways to regain some composure, as I thought that even if such a scenario could be real, it wouldn't be a good idea to let him know I was onto him anyway.

After my initial shock dispersed, and I reconnected with details surrounding the dream I regained some ease of mind. I became more able to see the irrationality of such a fear more clearly. That was so, because I was able to trace my fear back in time. The only reason I even believed the man in my dream was the Devil was because I had the dream during a nightmare heavy period in my life. I was remembering how even back then I believed the man did nothing wrong. I was remembering how in my dream reality I was finding him interesting. I was realising this was now the second dream with him where I jumped for the Devil label solely because I was aware I was dreaming, and I was in a dimly lit environment. The fear of him literally being the Devil dispersed almost completely, although not entirely, and reappeared briefly on two more occasions throughout the night. While the fear of him being the literal embodiment of the Devil dispersed, I was still re-living a dream I had experienced as a nightmare when I was merely 12 years old.

Having this train of thoughts enabled me to see where my true fear laid. In my dream I feared he was nice, and playing along, just so he could get me. I feared this because to me, he seemed too good to be true. I felt that in both dreams.

To me it all seemed too on the nose, and I became aware there could be an inversion between Love and Fear in my psyche. It felt too perfectly aligned to the symbolism that right after my spiritual experience, a symbol of God, I would meet a man as the symbol of Devil. At the time, my spiritual experience felt like an education into the natures of Love and Fear as two sides of the same coin, to then meet a man who triggered what seemed to be a core fear, anchored in what I believed must have been a core wound. It seemed more logical to me that if I was to project outwardly what I knew to be my fear, I would probably engage in what would have to be an inversion of truth and reality implicitly.

This in conjunction with the amount of similarities I could see between us actually intensified my belief that it's likely that we share an essence. The way he seemed to connect or respond to certain words metaphysics/philosophy, synergy, unfair, and freedom. The way he corrected my grammar the first night - to me suggested he may have a similar relationship with language. His close ones described him as 'chill', 'living on a cloud' - whereas people in my life described me as 'so calm I would surely reach 100 yrs old', and 'living on a cloud'. We seemed to engage the same way with the world around us, and our core values, and interests seemed to be aligned. I hope this is enough to give you a picture as to why I would reach for such an idea.

I, however, didn't discount the possibility that he could be the vehicle through which that archetype could manifest into my life. I didn't discount the possibility he could be both either. I allowed room for everything. I was ready to investigate, but for the most part, from that moment on, I found myself trying to assess sameness.

I tried to pull myself together. I think I started by trying to provide some context for my spiritual experience wanting to show him the logic, and the experiential patterns that led to my spiritual emergence. I remember telling him about the nightmares I used to have as a kid. In response to my stories he said how darkness was drawn to light. He was however getting more impatient by the minute, as he didn't understand what I was trying to say. I told him how I could see patterns in my experience, but I don't recall much around that moment. I only recall talking about patterns.

My fear felt overpowering at times. There was a moment when it was overpowering enough for me to imagine how his house hadn't even been there before he met me, and how he had made it to magically appear there, all so he could lure me in with a false sense of safety. I remember trying to keep my composure, and at least look like I wasn't completely bonkers.

I would constantly fall back into my mind looking for memories, more information, and thinking of how to express what I needed to express. He seemed to grow more and more impatient, and started accusing me of not being present, saying we were in two different films.

I think I eventually ended blurting out my spiritual experience. I remember chopping chunks of it, as I felt him becoming more and more suspicious, and impatient with me. I started feeling self-conscious about it all, and felt he was filtering me through a 'religious' label.

I am not entirely sure when but there was this joke he started making saying 'taxi'. Looking back, I am not entirely sure what he meant by it, but then it felt like a different word for 'crazy'. Maybe it was the context, as I was aware of how insane my story sounded, and I expressed that awareness. At one point, I even asked him if he wanted me to go home. I thought that maybe he was too polite to say it, and I wanted to give him a way out. In reply to it, he told me 'Don't be insecure'. I wasn't insecure in the slightest. I stayed, because I wanted to investigate.

I don't remember the exact moment I realised he may be implying the fear I verbally expressed experiencing was about him being Muslim, but I recall repeatedly saying it wasn't the case. At one point, I also point blank tried to address the issue, because we seemed to end up in the same place. That seemed to bring some comfort in the moment, but after a while we were there again. He never used the word prejudice, only implied it, so I was confused if he really believed that or what was it that he believed.

He asked me to stop talking about my dreams and my spiritual experience. I didn't really want to stop talking about it, because I thought it was the easiest way for him to see what I was seeing. While I had awareness, I had limited knowledge of Jungian psychology at the time, and consciousness as a concept. To me, my experience was context for the bigger picture I was trying to share with him when I didn't know how else to express it all. I tried to work around it, and I ended up asking all sorts of questions trying to assess sameness, or just to get more information. He had already accused me of not being present, and some of the questions were completely random, as I was trying to sort through my thoughts and feelings looking for ways to express myself.

I was sometimes asking questions trying to stall in preventing him from growing more impatient, until I figured out a way to articulate what I needed to in a manner he could understand me. There was this moment, when I asked a question. I don't remember what the question was. It was random, as I was hoping for a break, so I could think. He asked me something in return while I was lost in thought. I answered 'yes', without registering his question. I don't recall the exact sequence, but I remember the moment I realised I had basically agreed to a statement that implied I was being prejudiced. In the shock and panic of the realisation of the question I had just answered 'yes' to, my eyes got big and I started repeatedly saying 'NO. NO. NO.'

I remember how one of my questions was aimed at figuring out whether or not he could be the literal Devil. I didn't necessarily believe it, but I felt I owed it to myself to at least try looking into it. I remember trying to find the right words, and I said something that basically said absolutely nothing. I was circling the word control, but didn't want to say it, just in case he was the literal Devil. In reply to it, he asked me if I wanted to know if he had a prayer rug. I said it wasn't what I was looking for, but if it was what he wanted to share with me... I felt any information about him was valuable, so I didn't mind.

I remember him getting so upset at one point that he started calling me slow and dense, and asked me if I was autistic. The more impatient he was getting with me, the more distressed I was getting.

I remember constantly trying to get a hold of my fear, and the general overwhelm I was feeling around my entire experience with him. I also remember working up the courage to try to tell him I believed we share the same soul. I started by telling him that after my spiritual experience I started opening up to the idea that there was such a thing as two people having the same soul. He never let me finish what I wanted to say. He got upset that I brought up two other men. I was trying to show him a contrast, because I really didn't know how to tell him I believed me and him had the same soul. I had circled the question of whether some of the men in my life fit those shoes, but was never able to put my finger on it, and yet I had no trouble recognising him as having the same soul I did.

His cousin came home joining us in the living room. This took me by surprise and in that context amplified fears within me, as I was now in the presence of two men I didn't really know. By this point, A. was really upset, and he started making a dig at my weight as his cousin started preparing something to eat.

He seemed offended I wasn't including his cousin in the conversation. I wasn't trying to be disrespectful to anyone, but not only did his cousin's presence take me by surprise, but I was incredibly overwhelmed with everything. I felt him getting more and more hostile, which was only increasing my distress, making it even more difficult for me.

I think in trying to provide an explanation for what he seemed to have perceived as disrespect, I ended up telling him that I wasn't interested in his cousin, but in him, which I think came across a little weird in that context. I think this moment had him angrily say something to the effect that I was mad to believe he wanted a relationship with me after this night. By this point it became increasingly difficult for me to maintain the connection with my own consciousness, and I was mostly out of it when he said that. Even so, as out of it as I was, I started laughing hysterically. Looking back, this must have been quite a scene that I would love to see from outside. Peak madness.

I don't remember the exact sequence, but I remember how at one point he told me I should also inquire about his cousin. He proceeded to state his cousin's job. He expected me to act surprised. It took me a while to even realise that he was trying to show me how western coded a Muslim man's line of work could be, so I just sat there and listened. The moment I understood why he was making me aware of his cousin's job, I understood he was set on the 'prejudiced against Muslim people' label, and there was nothing I could say or do to change his mind.

I believe at this point I simply became unable to cope with it all. I was going in and out of consciousness, struggling to hold on. I think it was at this moment he started to make remarks aligned with stereotypes surrounding my culture. I don't recall exactly what he said, or how, but I remember seeing a similarity in cognitive style when it comes to observing ironies and blind spots in the mindsets of people engaging with stereotypical and prejudicial views, as he believed I was doing. I remember thinking, 'i, too always notice the ironies. that's exactly the way my mind works.' I wasn't even upset with him, and I was smiling all the way through it which may have upset him even more.

It must have been after this moment that he started a tirade against me. I don't remember any of the words, only that he was very angry. That destabilised me completely, and I felt I was headed towards collapse. I stopped being able to even hold my head upwards, and my body was getting mushy. It felt as if I had no reflexes. This was the moment his cousin intervened bringing my state to his attention.

In an attempt to at least get me out of that state, he calmed himself down, and came close to me. I don't remember what he said, but he tried to find a way to soothe me somehow. It worked, but only mildly. It was however enough to gather myself.

I remember how in my attempt to look normal, the first thing I did after gathering myself was to touch the wooden table in front of me. I then asked him if it was made of real wood. 'Is this real wood?'. Those were my exact words. This still has me laughing, because it was such a dumb moment. It also has me crying for the same reason.

The rest of the night, I resorted to just trying to make casual conversation. As casual as conversation could be after all of this. I believe I ended up looking mighty dumb to him.

I will stop here, as I believe it is enough of a representation of how that night unfolded.

Disclaimer: This website reflects my personal memories, perceptions, and interpretations of past events. All names and identifying details have been changed. Its purpose is healing, coherence, and self-expression.