I was the wind; maybe more of a breeze, sweeping through a happy forest.  I guess if I had to name it, I would call it the coupling forest.  Unlike any forest I’ve seen in real life, this dream forest was made up of coupled trees – No tree stood alone.  Each tree had its pair and the limbs of one intertwined with the branches of the other.  It was beautiful.  Light shone down through the branches as I floated by, searching.

I was searching for my tree – the tree that was me.  I knew I was there.  I had to be.  In the forest of life, every tree would be there, including me.  It wasn’t strenuous or stressful to float along, even though I was searching; as if finding me wasn’t SO important, but I would like to find me.  It was a strange existence. 

I saw a single tree, one without its pair.  It was odd and caused me to stop, realizing the absence.  Where the pair had been was only bruised Earth, as if the tree had been pulled loose from the Earth.  Stranger still was that the dirt circle from where the tree had been uprooted was covered, in a very orderly and symmetrical fashion, with red (faded, as if they had been there for a very long time) bricks.  I knew that I had put the bricks there.  However, I didn’t know which tree was me – the one still there or the one that was no longer there.

I woke up feeling weighted, as if rooted to the bed.