The alarm clock rang this morning, so I pressed snooze. And again. And again. Next thing I knew, it was 6:00 p.m. and I’d spend the whole day in bed again. My excuse this time is that I had a dream so strange and so upsetting that every time I started to come out of it, I’d try figuring out whether it was for real or not and what it could possibly mean and fall right back into it again.
One thing I was trying to understand was why I’d still keep having dreams about my ex D when it’s been over ten years since we broke up now. He’s married with kids. I’ve got my cats and my mood disorder. The dreams are always more or less the same: I’m staying at his apartment while he’s gone away to a business trip so that I can pack up the last of my things and move away for good. As I make my way around his apartment, I look back on our relationship and try to find clues as to why things went wrong for us (and discover plenty of them). But this time there was a huge twist because in this dream he came back home wanting to work things out and shortly after he dies in my arms after a terrible accident. I kept trying to save him and he kept dying over and over and over again. It was incredibly upsetting. I woke up crying a few times and went back to sleep hoping the dream would change it’s course by the time I woke up again. But it didn’t. It just kept getting stranger and stranger and he just kept dying again and again. Now that I know the outcome of all this—he dies in the dream, I wake up more upset and feeling stranger than ever, having missed out on another day of school—I do realize what I should have done was get out of bed first thing this morning, go to school and leave it all behind me.
Some things I’ll just never understand.