Last night, I dreamed I found a DVD and popped it into my computer. On it was a video of me exactly ten years ago, to date. My senses were aroused to every event and image of that summer, back in 1995 when I was twenty, working at the barn teaching horsemanship at my favorite youth camp in Oklahoma. The details of the dream weren't accurate, but the feelings were. I saw the freshness of my life represented in the predominantly green background and the playful activities. I reflected my first kiss that summer, the innocence of first love before the heartbreak, and the youthful enthusiasm that infiltrated my interactions with people and my desires to live every moment to its fullest. The video was even accompanied by all the music that was popular on the radio at that time. I played sports with my old friends and saw my equine companions at the barn, tied to the hitching rail, just like they used to be, waiting to be ridden.
In the dream, the DVD ended and I wished to replay it over and over, but couldn't find a way. Before I could work out the problem, it was time to leave for a social gathering. At the gathering was an old friend I had worked with at the barn that summer, now ten years older. I approached her excitedly, wishing to remind her of the good times and eager to ignite some of that passion again in a new romp, perhaps by horseback, across the pasture, like we used to do.
She interrupted me before I could even start, mentioning something that she seemed hardly able to contain herself about. What was it that she was bursting at the seams to tell me? She had just purchased a wonderful new piece of furniture.
When I awoke, I wasn't sure where I was or even what year it was. I had to think for a few minutes, with a sense of dread over what I may have become during the decade. I sighed in relief once I remembered that, in fact, I haven't purchased one piece of furniture to this date.
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