Meeting A. the 2nd time

I recovered most of my memory of that night, but it remains hazy and broken in places. This was the part of our interactions that affected me the most. I only started attempting writing about it just about a month ago. It was much more fragmented and incomplete than this, but as I felt through more of my feelings I built on it. This is the form it has for 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 fear him, I am not sure I can adequately express how it feels to find yourself literally re-living a nightmare. It was like both realities lived in me at once, then merging and becoming a deeper 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. And all of them at once.

I had already decided before seeing him that second night, that I needed to talk to him about it all. I took everything into consideration, including the fact that it would surely be a sensitive subject. 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 wouldn't just a second date for me. I was going to be in the presence of a man who could have either been the Devil in some way, or a man whose essence was identical to mine.

I went over the sensitive nature of the subject. I was aware of the social context, but I didn't see how I could avoid the subject given the circumstances. I made sure my need didn't stem from an ugly place. I went over it again and again, and I concluded that I would have felt the same need had he been Christian, Mormon, or Buddhist in that context. Besides, I believed that by engaging in an act of authentic self-expression for my state and experience around him, would both 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. Worst case scenario for me was the horned one trying to get me. I was aware of the irrationality, and ridiculousness of it, but I had yet to meet a person on whom I had gone back and forth in a dream, between him having the same soul or the Devil. 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 in essence equally as prejudiced. 

***

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 must have chosen the brown leather one, because velvet was uncomfortable 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 trying 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. That made me feel overwhelmed, and my need for self-protection kicked in. I wasn't thinking that he was the Devil. Quite the opposite - I was thinking same soul as he was passing by. And yet the uncertainty that had already taken root inside my soul, felt incredibly overwhelming. As soon as he approached me I think I was already spewing Light, Truth, and maybe even God. 

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 only 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 key figure. Not only that, but this time around I was re-living a nightmare that had me grow up with the Devil label attached to him. 

You would think that from this moment on, I grew increasingly afraid of A., but that wasn't what happened. After my initial shock I only became more aware of the irrationality of my fear. 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 in-dream reality I was finding him interesting. This only cemented the idea that my fear was irrational. 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. It however re-appeared briefly only two times that night.

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 that because to me, he seemed too good to be true. I felt that in both dreams. 

This actually intensified my belief that it's likely that we share an essence. To me it seemed too on the nose. Right after my spiritual experience which at the time felt like an education on the nature of Love and Fear - two sides of the same coin - I would meet a man who triggered what seemed to be a core fear, anchored in a core wound. It seemed more logical to me that engaging with what I knew to be my Fear would have to be an inversion of Truth and reality implicitly. I found this to have a high likelihood of being true, as I could see a series of similarities between us. The way he corrected my grammar the first night - to me suggested he may have a similar relationship with language. The way he connected with the words metaphysics, or synergy.  Or how he said his close ones described him as chill, living on a cloud - whereas I was described as so calm I would surely reach 100 yrs old, and living on a cloud. These are just some of the details I had observed, and I hope they are 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 providing some context for my spiritual experience. Back then even that in itself seemed a wild event, and I felt to provide context for why I was seeing logic behind my life leading there. I remember talking about the nightmares I used to have as a kid. At one moment he said how it was only natural because darkness was drawn to light. He was however getting more impatient.  

Even if I was aware of the irrationality of my fear, it felt overpowering at times. 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. 

As he seemed to grow more and more impatient, I think I eventually ended blurting out my spiritual experience. I feel I must have surely chopped it, as I felt him becoming more and more suspicious, and impatient with me. 

I think, but I am not sure when, that it was around this portion of the night that I felt him showing contempt, and ridicule towards my experience. I think his reaction was likely enabled by the fact that I was already feeling self-conscious about it all. 

I don't remember the exact moment I realised he may be implying my fear was about him being Muslim, but I recall repeatedly saying it wasn't the case. I also point blank tried to address the issue. That seemed to bring some comfort in the moment, but it felt like every question I was asking would end up with me feeling accused of bigotry. 

I ended up asking him all sorts of questions, after he asked me to stop talking about my dreams and my spiritual experience. I didn't really want to stop talking about it. To me, my experience was context for the bigger issue I was trying to share with him, but I resorted to asking him questions. Some of them were just random, because he had already accused me of not being present. He was saying we were in two different films. 

I remember this moment, when I asked a question. I don't remember what the question was. I think it was random. He asked me something in return, but I was lost in thought, so I didn't even register. I just said 'yes' only to give the impression that I was listening. I don't recall the exact sequence, but I had basically just point blank admitted to being prejudiced. In the shock of realising what I had just yes to, my eyes got big and I repeatedly said 'NO. NO. NO.'

I was sometimes asking questions trying to stall, and keep him calm until I figured out a way to articulate what I needed to in a manner he would find palatable. I remember how one of my questions was aimed at figuring out whether or not he could be the Devil. I remember trying to find the right words, and I said something that basically said nothing. 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... To me any information about him was valuable. 

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. He never let me get to it.

I remember him getting so upset that he started calling me slow and dense, and asking me if I was autistic. The more impatient he was getting with me, the more distressed I was getting. I also remember feeling he implied I was mentally unstable. He also made comments that were suggestive of body shaming. I also remember him making comments that suggested I was a gold digger. He made other comments that I won't launch in. I wasn't even offended at what he was saying. I remember even smiling through some of them. I was seeing where they were coming from. 

I felt him getting more and more hostile, which increased my distress. At one point, I simply became unable to cope with it all. I started going in and out of consciousness. I was desperately trying to hold on. 

His cousin came home. 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 in trying to show me how normal a Muslim man could be. I wasn't trying to be disrespectful to anyone, but not only his cousin's presence took me by surprise, but I was incredibly overwhelmed with everything. I think in trying to provide an explanation for what he seemed to have perceived as disrespect, I ended up telling him I wasn't interested in his cousin, but in him. I think it was after this that he said something to the effect that I was mad to believe he wanted a relationship with me after that night. Because at that point I was already constantly losing the connection with my own consciousness, I was mostly out when he said that. Even so, as out of it as I was I started laughing hysterically. Looking back, that must have been quite a scene that I would love to see from outside. Peak madness. 

It must have been afterwards that he started his tirade. I don't remember any of the words he was using, only that he was very upset. That destabilized me completely, and I felt I was headed towards collapse. I remember I stopped being able to even hold my head upwards, and my body was getting mushy. It felt as if I had no reflexes. That was the moment his cousin intervened. 

I believe that 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. 

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.

I remember how in my attempt to look normal, I touched 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, although seen through a different lens.

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 - not accusation or defamation.