When sweet dreams go bad...

I've been dreaming quite a bit lately. Not necessarily bad dreams, but dreams that have certainly been reminiscent of a different time and place in my own increasingly-not-so-recent

-personal-history. There are specifics that many could guess, particulars of time, place, persons, etc. but I'm not prepared to divulge those in print for whatever misguided propriety I feel I'd betray.
Last night was a particularly good/bad dream though. I was in this place, with these people, meeting one person in particular.
It seems, in these dreams, that I'm as much there as I am here. My senses are intact; I smell and feel and see. What happens happens and then I wake up to an alarm, a brightened room, or the still dark night and have to run to the bathroom having had too much water at the gym a few hours before.
Without going into details, Id just like to say that I'd really appreciate the temporary ability to interpret dreams, and I don't mean in a Freudian sense, I mean like Joseph did, because I get the sense that these dreams are telling me something.
Of course I could already know what it is.
Anyhow, last night's culminated in a reunion with a particular someone I haven't seen but for one passing instance in a few years. I was walking with two others outside a familiar house. I followed them inside. I stopped in the threshold where I met the other.
We meet inside a familiar doorway. We hug, but it's more my initiative. Then I drop to my knees, falling face to feet where I see scars and wake to realize that this is all I know of love.