Good morning, honey –
This morning’s visions are going to be considerably more disjointed than most – dreams can be like that, after all – but it’s the sort of thing you’d likely be telling me about if it happened to you, so I think it’s only fair. This letter might also be the sort of thing someone else might thing I’d regret upon re-reading it later, but that’s the point of such a personal relationship as ours; we could say things that can to our minds, and not worry that the other would think the less of us for the telling.
Anyway, the dream. There are those that insist that humans are only capable of dreaming in black and white, and I’d contest that as a rule, since the most vivid and memorable dreams tend to be the ones that feel the most plausible, the most like real life. Oh, they may be situations that are literally impossible for a real-world situation, but in the moment, they are completely surrounding you, the dreamer, like a virtual reality. This almost demands a dreamscape awash in color, just as the real world is. Barring a scenario taking place at twilight or nighttime itself (which, fair enough, could be the case, as you are generally sleeping at night), shades of gray would be insufficient to envision a near-real world around you. But, of course, I can’t scientifically prove any of this; each dream is a discrete piece of anecdotal evidence, only either forgotten in the waking, or embellished in the telling thereafter.
And in fact, this morning’s dream was very different from any of this. There wasn’t much particularly ‘realistic’ about it, so it actually wasn’t in color at all. In fact, it wasn’t an actual story (well, perhaps it was, but I’ll get to that), but rather a collection of images; a series of line drawings, like pages of a manga that I was looking at, rather than interacting with.
You know how in the movies, particularly ones that focus on a protagonist and their love interest, the entire story is built around the tension between “will they, or won’t they?” That was what was playing out here. I couldn’t tell you a single thing about what was going on throughout the pages that were flipping past my eyes; nothing about the hero or the girl, or even if the girl was the hero and the guy was the love interest, what they had been trying to accomplish throughout the story, and whether they had succeeded in their goals. To be fair, it was like reading raw manga, where the dialogue, written as it is in Japanese, appears to an otherwise unlettered American as gibberish; mere pen scratches to explain nothing of what is going on. All I could see was this must have been near the end of the book, and the answer to that question about the relationship dynamic was… yeah, they will.
Another movie trope comes into play at this point. Back in the golden age of Hollywood, when the Hays Code was in full force, the main characters would get together at the end (or whenever; sure, there would be love scenes at various points throughout certain movies, but the ‘happily-ever-after’ ending was the real deal), the music would swell, the camera would turn away from the action (like I said, Hays Code) and… roll credits. Of course, these days, the camera doesn’t bother to turn away, although it will focus on various curves, profiles and expressions rather than showing everything – even now, filmmakers (and really, anyone who considers themselves an ‘artist’) have this nebulous line between what they consider to be porn and art. Some of them lean heavily into the artistic side, while others come as close to the line as they can get, because sex sells, after all.
I’m going to go out on a limb and say that the pages that were passing before my eyes were of this nature; near the end of the book, triumphant in having accomplished whatever the true goal of the story was, the lover-protagonists were in each other’s arms, celebrating their victory in the one way lovers do together. And as I was paging through these images that were both incomprehensible (due to the language barrier – or maybe the lack of dialogue entirely, because who needs words at this point?) and almost universally understandable, I could hear music in my head that seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place it until I woke up and recognized it.
Once I fully woke up, I wondered if that was what my mind was seeking out of life at this point. Sure, you’ve heard me natter on about looking for ‘Megumi’, and the pages that flashed before me certainly looked like a situation we shared often enough – and I would like to find someone to have that sort of connection with again – but where does ‘mercy’ enter into it?
I found myself parsing the concepts of ‘mercy’ and ‘grace,’ and decided that neither of them truly fits the circumstances. These are theological concepts, used in a sort of legal framework, regarding offense and punishment. They are opposite sides of the same coin, a form of yin and yang – although to call them that does them a disservice, as they aren’t concepts that come up in Eastern religions, to the best of my knowledge. Of course, you know this as well as I do, but the summarized explanation of the two concepts are that mercy represents the fact that we don’t receive what we deserve (in most cases, this specifically represents the divine punishment for our sin), while grace represents what we do receive that we don’t deserve (which is to say, the penalty that must be paid for those sins was paid by someone other than ourselves). Of course, the sacrifice of Christ in our stead included both of these in the same act, so it’s understandable to conflate the two, as in their most important appearance in our lives, the walk hand-in-hand, inextricably linked together.
But what does that have to do with my dream?
To be honest, I don’t think it does; at least, not in the theological sense that we usually imagine these words. Grace may be closer than mercy, as it’s not that I had a right to a relationship like we had (and certainly not a second time around). But maybe, because of those theological connotations, I can’t use those words at all in any other sense. So what is the word, the concept I’m looking for to describe what I’m looking for?
You might think from the title, that I’ve arrived at it, but I don’t think so. After all this time, I might no longer be proud enough to say I wouldn’t accept it, but it’s not something to build a relationship upon. Pity is a form of compassion borne of (and toward ameliorating) the suffering of another; were Megumi to approach me out of pity, that would likely set aside – at least momentarily – the sense of loss, the suffering, that comes from your departure. With the suffering dissipated, however, the pity has nothing left to focus on, and anything born out of it collapses.
Of course, it might be argued that if that were to happen, and she would walk away, her work supposedly done, that would simply bring on more suffering, and the pity would rush back, as would she. Either way, though, it doesn’t strike me as a particularly stable foundation.
Anyway, I warned you that these thoughts would be rather disjointed and meandering. I don’t have a lot of answers to life (it’s another reason I set aside my channel – I’ve learned that I have no wisdom to dispense to others after all, since I can’t seem to work my way through my own problems, so how can I expect to help others?), but I can tell you about my questions, and the things that prompted them.
I just wish you were here to talk directly to about them; or at least, that I could find that person someday – hopefully, soon.
Anyway, keep an eye on me today, and wish me luck. As always, I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 