The sun had gone down. Dusk was approaching. I was in a place I could not tell with precision. Two guys who seemed like guys I knew in real life were outside discussing on a high plain which seemed to be a large balcony of a storey building or simply a mountainous edge. I felt lonely, I felt I had no friends, and most painfully, I felt no one wants to be my friend.

I couldn't be exact because it all happened in the middle of the night when I was fast asleep. I found the dream very exciting because it bespoke volumes of my real relationship life. I have always felt deserted, I have felt I haven't gotten the friends I needed for a relationship. Could it be my fault? This I have always wondered, even on that high plain.

One of the guys, after the other guy had left, was still right at the spot of their discussion. I took a bold step to him and asked why they felt bored with my company. This was what I felt, at least, they felt about my company. " Why do you always isolate yourself," was the response of this guy I was becoming enmeshed with in a discussion.

His retorted response took me into a sharp reminiscence, and I started narrating my experience which was one of low self-esteem and isolationism. I discovered that as I was narrating my experience he was all ears and, I felt he was excited by a story I felt to be an ugly chequered experience of my past.

This was a story I was ashamed of whenever I thought of it, but right here stood a guy excited about every bit of it. "could it be that telling the humble story was a panacea to my isolationism?" this was my thought and a bit I could make out of my dream. Stories are powerful and I think even the worst story can make a great difference.
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