This airport doesn’t exist

There’s an airport I dream about from time to time. It doesn’t exist, or if it does, I’ve never been there, which is a creepy idea of a transit station for your being if there ever was one. Anyway, in these dreams I’m generally late, have forgotten my passport, gotten separated from a beloved one, stressful things like that. I wonder what it means? I mean, other than being a reminder to have proper packing lists so that you don’t forget your passport on your next intercontinental foray.