Last night I had a dream about my friend Hunter. As background, I met Hunter several years ago when he was still a senior in high school and I was working for a local magazine as a writer. Hunter had written a play that his drama department was putting on, and it was kind of a big deal that a school was producing a play written by a student, so I wrote a story about it. (I’d share it with you, but the magazine changed names and websites and took down all the old stories. Bummer.)

Almost immediately, I liked Hunter. I found him intelligent, talented, adorable, and charming, and we started to form a friendship. He’s now living in Los Angeles, trying to make it as an actor, and we maybe get together once a year. Even though I don’t see Hunter very often, I feel about him today the way I felt when I first met him–I love him unconditionally. What I mean by that is that although I’m not in love with him, I just love him. Like, it doesn’t matter what he does or doesn’t do, and it doesn’t matter how often we talk, or if he comes to town and doesn’t call. I just care about him, I want him to have a good life, and that’s it.

I can’t say exactly why some people get unconditional love just like that and others either have to warm up to it or never get it at all. But I think the answer has to do with stardust and fairies.

The author Elizabeth Gilbert tells a story in her book Big Magic about meeting the author Ann Patchett, exchanging a kiss, and later finding out that Ann was halfway through writing a novel that was almost detail-for-detail the same as one Elizabeth had given up writing years before (but had never talked to Ann about). Elizabeth says that she believes ideas sort of float around, knocking on people’s doors until they find someone who will let them in, work with them, and help them become real things. She says that because she couldn’t finish the book, it went to someone else. And she thinks the idea jumped from her to Ann when they kissed.

I love shit like this.

Last night I heard Ann speak at the Fayetteville Public Library. When someone asked her about her side of the story involving Elizabeth Gilbert, she said it happened basically like Liz said, although she added that they’d been drinking before they kissed and that no body fluids were exchanged. As for the interpretation of what happened, she said that Liz was more spiritual than she was, that Liz was more “stardust and fairies.” She said that the coincidence was hard to deny, but that she was more “meat and potatoes” about it. I guess she told Liz, “So you’re telling me I was the book’s second choice?”

Personally, I like stardust and fairies over meat and potatoes. Call it God, the universe, your soul, or your subconscious. Call it stardust and fairies. But I like the idea that something wise is driving the ship or at least on board the ship, helping to steer us in the right direction.

I once had a friend tell me that when you’re gay, you don’t just come out of the closet. He said, “First you accept it in someone else, then you accept it in yourself.” I think the statement is pretty profound, largely because I think its application goes beyond sexuality.

My friend Eugenia says, “If you spot it, you got it.” Normally, we think of this truth in a negative sense, like if you notice how someone else complains all the fucking time, it probably means that you complain all the fucking time. (It sucks, I know.) But I think this truth applies across the board. Getting back to Hunter, if there’s someone in your life that you think is intelligent, talented, adorable, and charming, it probably means that you are too. First you accept it in someone else, then you accept it in yourself.

In my experience, accepting the good parts about myself is a process. It’s much easier to recognize them in someone else. It’s easier to love someone else unconditionally than it is to love myself unconditionally. But I think that’s why people like Hunter show up in our lives. They help steer us in the right direction. They help remind us of our deep capacity to love. Even better, when we give love, we get love. It’s like a trick the universe plays, like when you’re walking down the street and see a person in a shop window. At first you think it’s someone else, but then you realize, “Oh wait, that’s me over me. That’s me I’m loving.”

My therapist and I talk a lot about dreams. A couple of months ago, I had a dream that I was riding on the back of a swan, and (go figure), Katie Holmes was riding on another swan next to me. Both of us were flying over a big body of water. (Water shows up a lot in my dreams and is universally associated with the subconscious and emotions.) My therapist said that dreaming of a swan seemed pretty auspicious (she likes to use that word), and that swans are associated with grace under pressure, that it was like my subconscious recognizing that I was doing the best I can during this time of change.

When we talked about Katie Holmes, my therapist asked me what I associated with Katie Holmes. (When it comes to dreams, it’s not really about the other person; it’s about what the other person makes you think of.) I said that when I think of Katie Holmes, I think of her character on Dawson’s Creek and the episode in which she sang “On My Own” from Les Mis. So my therapist said the dream was also about my feeling alone in the world right now.

So get this. My therapist comes back the next session and says that she’s been researching swans. She says that she found out that they are always found in pairs. Swans are never alone.

I love shit like this.

In the dream last night about Hunter, Hunter and I were in a hotel. Hotels, like water, show up a lot for me. They represent times of transition–like, I don’t know–living with your parents. I haven’t discussed the dream with my therapist yet, but I’ve been at this long enough to know that the dream has something to do with being in a time of transition and seeing myself as intelligent and talented (and maybe even adorable and worthy of unconditional love) even though I haven’t made it to my next destination.

When I came to the library this afternoon, I knew that I was going to blog about Hunter and the dream, so I started looking for a photo of Hunter on my personal Instagram account. The one I found was taken over four years ago, when Hunter and I were hanging out at IHOP. It was the first time I found out about his nervous habit–a habit I’d forgotten about until this afternoon–twisting paper napkins into the shape of animals.

Well that’s not exactly right. Hunter doesn’t make animals out of paper napkins. Hunter makes just one animal out of paper napkins. And maybe you’ll look at the picture and see meat and potatoes.  But I look at the picture and see stardust and fairies. I look at the picture and am reminded that I’m being steered in the direction of unconditional love, both for others and for myself. I’m reminded that I’m not alone. Why? Take a look at the photo I took long before therapy or any of the dream interpretation ever started. Hunter makes paper…swans.