The end is the beginning is the end (there is a version of this song that I can’t find – I thought it was on the Watchmen soundtrack but I was wrong and I want it so badly) – I’m glad I got this all down before I got that incredibly rude knock on the door from someone trying to sell me something. Actually perfect timing, as I think I was done with my actual thoughts and becoming too entrenched in talking about interpersonal affairs again. I’m hoping to stop that – and I only answered one text message from the boy (should I come up with code names for them, or is that a signal that I’m searching for an audience again?) during this post.

It occurs to me that multiple dreams, with multiple outcomes, can still be prophetic if the future is everchanging. If there is no fixed future, then prophetic dreams are merely showing the most likely outcome, and as other factors click into place and become fixed as past events that likely outcome changes. Sacrificing the idea of a higher power, it’s just our brains guessing what’s probably going to happen, and when a person is pretty smart, and can cut through the contextual bullshit that usually clouds our thoughts, that person is usually right. Because logic.

I mainly added this because I didn’t want to begin with my dreams.

So this part above is actually the end.

I was in a Salvation army (you know they look different than Goodwills, the yellowish cream linoleum floors, almost unfinished walls, and all that dust) with my boyfriend. I believe I was wearing a black blazer over an outfit composed of mainly black and dark teal, while he was wearing a white and blue striped collared shirt, though those details are unusually fuzzy. I was looking around at things, and I found several pairs of Tibetan cloth slippers. The slippers were denim, padded and full top, with tassels and ties around the ankles. They had some high top colorfully embroidered ones with pom-poms at the ties. I believe they were 7.99, but I decided to pass on them because they had cloth soles. In retrospect, I would have bought them if they were 3.99 or lower.

As a waking aside, it’s time to start looking at Asian imports again.

We were then seated in chairs in the furniture section, and in my eye site I could see a lot of glassware. I buy a particular pattern of glassware, and there was a lot of it on display, some exact copies of glasses that I already have. I debated buying it, but I have so much glassware. I don’t know why we were sitting there, I don’t remember an auction taking place, but we then moved to a long row of tables and chairs lined up for sale. There were some rainbow metallic and translucent iridescent standing ashtrays in a mid-century modern style, globes on architectural style arms, which in retrospect I would have snapped up if they were $40 or less because I have never seen anything like them before.

As a waking aside, maybe I can send that design over to China and have them produced. I could use new lighting.

Seated at the row of chairs, my boyfriend (I almost used his name, I’m still asleep) and I had a fight about something, I’m not sure what exactly, but the culmination of the argument was that he should call his ex wife to ask her why she wouldn’t fuck him. I walked away from him then, not really angry, just knowing that he never would, and for this reason somehow, I was free of him.

I remember feeling exactly as I feel I would at that moment (obviously) – a little sad, but more than that excited to be free to pursue a better relationship. I don’t recall even thinking about his dick.

My dream from last night

When recounting this dream, I realize how much attention I pay to objects, particularly things that I can buy. I don’t need to get into the personality parts that I have that cause that, but I do find it odd that in this dream I *didn’t* buy any of the things I normally would. And, I left my boyfriend behind. Is he somehow connected to me buying all of these things I really don’t need?

We were supposed to have a “serious conversation” tomorrow about our relationship. We set the date several weeks ago, 6 weeks exactly, and he was angry that I even brought (I almost wrote bought) up any seriousness at all. One of the few times that he ever got angry, one of the few times that I ever suggested actually talking. He only likes it when I talk about his dick.

I will bring it up again when he calls tonight. I’m not sure what is important to write here, but I will just clear my mind and go. He will most likely be mad that I brought it up again. My point will be that of course, when he realized that the 18th was a bad day, and that there was too much going on to talk about future plans, which of course he will think, that he should have brought it up and offered to move it, or at least acknowledge the fact that there was a discussion waiting to be had at all. By ignoring my concerns he has, once again, dismissed me as trivial and utterly disrespected my desire to have a coherent life with him, once again just treating me like a little plaything that he keeps in a box to take out whenever he wants a doll. I certainly don’t mind being a cockpuppet, the sex is great, but it’s entirely unfair to commandeer my whole life just because he wants someone around to fuck and has a fetish for emotions.

This is exactly what he’s done to me (I was going to put this sentence at the end of the last paragraph as would be the traditional style, but it’s more stylistically true to my usual form to begin each paragraph with a reference to the one before). One of the things that will be at the heart of our discussion, under the extremely unlikely circumstances that we have it at all, is what the market is doing, and if we should look to buy a house when things level in June. Even if we were to have the discussion, he would tell me to wait and see. He refuses to make plans with me, at least not the kind that actually would enrich He told me that I would be able to go see him yesterday, when he put me off from Friday, but yesterday came and went and he never even made any mention of what he had previously told me. It’s the stereotypical Daddy-pony scenario that honestly, is most of our relationship unless he’s buying me plain tickets to someplace where he can show me off, or buying me things that I utterly can’t ever hope to use, like more glassware or jewelry. It occurs to me now, that he will try to screw me, literally and figuratively, in the end. He’s protecting himself. This is conjecture of course, but it’s the best I’ve got.

I just realized that Three is the Magic Number by Blind Melon has a reference to pregnancy, and so I’m unliking it. Just kidding, I didn’t.

My ex texted today. He is stuck in California. I worry about his parents, and I was planning to call them. My boyfriend doesn’t understand why, but it just shows that underneath all of the flash and show, he doesn’t really know what it’s like to truly care about people. He would never call his ex, and I can see now that that’s what this dream was about (or at least what I’ve made it about now). I’m enjoying this exercise immensely, but I wish I didn’t dream about other people so much. I actually hate Coldplay, but someone we, My ex and I, both loved loved them so much. I wish I had more dreams about her. She kept wincing when I tried to hold her as she died. I just didn’t want her to be alone, but I know what it feels like to want to be alone in times like almost that. I broke down and hugged my ex and sobbed, but it didn’t help me feel better at all, I wonder why I even cried. My ex’s mother said she didn’t expect me too, and was honestly shocked. I don’t know if she was disappointed or not, but I kind of think she was. I’m not saying this for an audience, I’m saying it because I want to remember and I’m so afraid my memories will fade, and I want to keep all of them. I miss her so much. I have to realize that there are several reasons that we, My ex and I, can never get back the life that we had together, at least not any of the good parts.

I know where I want to put my ashes when I die.

I wonder if he’ll let me.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. Anna says:

    Second cup of coffee.

    I’m currently listening to that Blank Space / Stand By Me mashup by Imagine Dragons. I don’t really like Imagine Dragons at all, but this is a brilliant track, and brilliantly placed into my day right here as I sit down and open up this comment.

    I was just going to add in that I was talking to my boyfriend last night, when my ex texted and said he was running a fever. I immediately told my boyfriend that my ex had texted, and I had to go.

    I called back my boyfriend an hour or so later, after a rather frustrating and pointless conversation with my ex (he’s fine). I asked if he’d called his ex, and of course he said he hadn’t. I said some things about being continuously obligated to show respect for anyone who would believe that you had ever loved them, and of course he had no intellectual point of reference for anything I was talking about, as he never does, that shallow asshole.

    How could I ever believe that he had the capacity to love me?

    I guess my life is pretty much a cross between Blank Space and Stand By Me.

    I don’t think I ever want to see my boyfriend again.

  2. Anna says:

    I guess it’s comment day.

    I’m rereading how much I talk about relationships… and how hollow they all are. How am I supposed to figure out which ones are real.

    My side dude has told me that he loves me before, and I believe him. I love him too… but not like that. OMG, what do I do.

    Whatever I do, whatever excuse I make up, he’ll see right through it. He’s the only one who can.

    How do you tell the best person you know that they’re still not enough?

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