Last night I dreamt that Jim Carrey was my soul mate. It made no sense, but there we were.. flying through the inky night sky, high above the rooftops and twinkling lights of the town below.

It was “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” Jim Carrey, not “Ace Ventura” or “Dumb & Dumber” Jim Carrey (films that, I admitted to him, I would never willingly see). It was a more serious, sensitive, heavyhearted Jim Carrey, the one who despite extreme measures cannot erase love’s memory.

We flew without wings, lifted by a weightless feeling inside that some might mistake for emptiness. Somewhere within the darkness of moments past that we both had tried to forget, there was a spark that the fabric of our being billowed around, like a hot air balloon as it floats midway to the heavens or a moth that flutters above the halo of a flame.

Like most dreams, it was just a flash of an image stretched thin to make a story. And like most flights, there was that moment of descent, when reality sinks in: There was no love to begin with, really, just the inevitability of falling.

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