Remembering a Dream

In the nearly three months since I began taking daily migraine-prevention medicine, I haven't remembered a single dream I've had, until last night. I remember that I did dream, but I can't recall the substance. It's kind of like when you drink too much alcohol and the next day a tiny glimpse of something comes back to you (or so I've heard). The medicine doesn't make me intoxicated at all, but each morning my dreams from the night before are just beyond my reach.

So it was especially odd that the one dream I have remembered in all that time was a horribly gruesome one involving a man I used to go out with. He is a nice man for whom I have a lot of fondness and respect, but it's been well over five years since we dated and at least two years since we've seen each other. In my dream, he came to a party at my house, except I didn't live in my house; I lived in a luxury apartment. Anyway, somehow he fell and injured his head pretty badly. I went down to the apartment lobby to ask the conceirge to call for help (in the dream it made sense, but now I'm wondering why I didn't just use my own phone), and when I went back up to my apartment, he was apparently feeling much better: he and the woman who came to the party with him were having sex in my bed. I went crazy and started yelling at both of them; that's when I woke up.

Of course I wasn't mad when I awoke, but I was concerned. This is one of those dreams that, had it been about one of my kids, I would have called all of them to make sure they were okay. My friend's head (in the dream) was split wide open. I could see very dark blood inside, and bright red blood was pouring out all over the floor. I suppose it's good that even in the dream he recovered, but I don't know what any of it means or why I was able to remember only that dream above any other one I've had for months. I would have much preferred to remember a nice dream, something about flowers or islands or cabana boys. Maybe tonight.