The Carousel

I have always had recurring dreams. Ever since I was a little girl.

Even in my sleep I am obsessive.

The first recurring dream I had begins with me at a fair. There are big colorful tents billowing through the air above me. I’m walking along a dirt path, looking up to see people strolling by with cotton candy and circus men with dark mustaches waving their hands to attract attention. Everything is a swirl of light and color. I’m smiling, and peaceful, because for some reason I know I’m meant to be at this fair.

Then I see the carousel- my favorite part. I must have been walking towards it the entire time; huge magnificent horses rotating past me. I love this carousel. There are white horses with delicate flowers braided in their hair, black horses with stark white teeth and powerful red reins, and even though they slightly scare me, they are all so beautiful to me. I know I must get closer. I get ready to set up onto the stilled platform, reaching up to touch the vibrant colored horses, when I wake up.

Everytime.

I wake up right before I could get on. I’m frustrated. I attempt to re-close my eyes, relax back into that peace, and picture myself taking a giant step up to the platform of the carousel. But my dream kept going, and I’d re-enter my stage of sleep after I’d existed the carousel. I’d already be at the next exhibit- that had something to do with a big orange cat.

I never got to ride the carousel. I always woke up too early, and fell back asleep too late. I didn’t get to experience what it was like to calm my nerves and climb aboard the scary and beautiful horses. The next time I’d marvel at it across the dirt path, sometimes knowing, even in my sleep, I’d never make it in time.