I dreamed a dream last night of my ex-wife. Still in her youth as she left me. The setting was some sort of ramshackle commune. Imagine the Spahn Ranch. Garbage everywhere. Chaos combined with lethargy. I was returning after a long absence. During the time I was gone she had taken up with a nice young Asian man. They were living in a clothes-strewn station wagon. But there was also another guy hanging around who seemed to be part of the mix. He was more of your hippie from central casting. Tall, skinny and hairy with glasses and a messy beard. He was a mooch.
There were no recriminations, really no emotion at all. But I was back. She was my wife and I still had a feeling that she belonged with me and that I desired her. The guys were polite. It was unclear what the way forward was going to be.
So there it is. Ever going back. Apparently always in my mind. My personal Nakba.