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in dreams begin responsibilities

2 Feb

Here’s another weird dream for, you know, the record:

I’m not sure where exactly it started, but the first thing I remember is being in a hotel lobby. I saw Ty through the glass at the front door, and I let him in. Mom and Court were in some sort of ballroom, waiting. Or something. We went to a grocery store and bought a container of gummie bears from the produce section. We had plans to sell them individually for more than we paid for. Only the gummie bears would make us money, though the eggplant was a close second. There was another part where I was at home, and there was not enough light to see the spiders that I knew were there. Big ones. And if something happened between this and the next thing, I don’t remember it.
The next part began when I walked to bank to see a travel agent. I wanted to talk to a woman, but the only person available was a man. He was nice, but not very handsome. Aunty Mad was sleeping on the ground beside the desk next to his. This guy who was not Uncle Rick was speaking with their travel agent. I didn’t think anything of it, because in my dream, there was no Uncle Rick. I discussed our tentative real-life summer vacation plans with the travel agent, and learned that I didn’t have a lot of the details. Another guy about my age was working there, and he turned to me from his desk and asked, “What’s your sign?” He laughed. I thought he was cute, but I was not going to respond seriously to his inquiry. Aunty Mad got up and left. She waved goodbye to the boy who talked to me, but didn’t see me when I waved.
There was an uproar in the office. A celebration of some sort. A girl walked by with a fake lei. My travel agent said that everyone was celebrating her 45th week. After 45 weeks of working in the office, she was an official employee. My travel agent was younger now. I didn’t notice the difference. In my dream, there was none. I asked him how long he’d been working here. Ten years, he said. I was surprised. He looked too young to have been working for ten years. I just assumed that when he was younger, he did much smaller jobs. There wasn’t much else to do, so I thanked him for his help, and he walked me to the door. Well, that was when I noticed that he was in a wheelchair. He wasn’t particularly good-looking, but I could feel a slight attraction. Cory Haruki from high school walked past us. We said hi to each other, and he told me to keep in touch. I went outside with the travel agent (if he had a name, I didn’t know it). We talked a little more about nothing really, then he jacked up his chair so that we were eye-level. He kissed my forehead. His chair must have looked silly, and I knew it, but he was then so cute and sweet that I didn’t care.
We walked to his car, and I said, “I have to tell you something.” I think he knew that it wouldn’t be something good. He got in the driver’s seat. I helped him take his car’s sun-reflector thingy down (what are those called?) and I had plans to go my separate way. But I got in the passenger seat instead. I closed the door. It was raining. He looked at me, and he was so perfect. I missed him. It wasn’t said or anything, but I knew we’d been together before.
“You have a boyfriend, right?”
I nodded.
He was hurt. We were both devastated. I knew I wanted him more. I cried, because I wished things were different. I wished I could run away with him and forget about the other guy. But I couldn’t. He looked behind me. I turned around to see another car. I could barely see through the rain, but I knew it was my boyfriend’s parents. They drove away, disappointed, and I could see my boyfriend on the hill in the distance. I got out of the car to run after him. He’d seen me with the other boy, and although I didn’t love him more, I hated that I hurt him. He flew up to the roof, and said that if I was going to follow him, I’d have to fly too. That required abandoning my inhibitions about flapping my arms and doubting that I could fly, and because I felt there was nothing more for me to lose, I did it. And I flew.
We were in the house. We were alone. We stood at a table and he peeled an orange. Someone knocked on the door. I went to get it. I don’t remember what happened next. I just remember watching from afar. I wasn’t in my body anymore. My body didn’t exist. There was a guy in the driver’s seat. He was the main character. In the next scene, he had a black eye and everyone else in the car was gone. He’d killed them all. There was just him and his girlfriend.

Note that this is a world completely different from the real one in which I love my boyfriend, can’t fly, and would never visit a travel agent by myself.

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