My dreams came in two sets, as a result of a person rudely texting to ask for a favor they don’t deserve.
I don’t remember how I got there, but I was in bed with someone. In my dream, I knew them, but in real life, they look like a conglomerate of many men I’ve known (and probably slept with) before.
The house was a mix between my childhood home, and several other NH houses I’ve been in, including my good friends’. It was angular in that 80’s “contemporary” style, with plenty of random inaccessible skylights and impracticably tall closets. Outside the view from the window seat of the bedroom, was exactly the view that I had from my window when I was a kid.
The man I was in bed with had light hair, was it reddish, was it graying? He was of a thick, dad-bod build. And he was trying to impress me somehow.
He took out a few toys, stock leather BDSM type stuff, and one of them was a leather and metal cock ring on a leash. He tried to put it on, complaining the entire time that it hurt. In the most pathetic and annoying way. I remember trying to be nice about it, telling him he didn’t need it and to take it off, but like I said, he was trying to impress me… dudes are annoying. And I could tell by the feelings I had in my dream that this dude was constantly annoying, and I secretly hated him.
He finally got up like “the whole mood is ruined” (ugh, now it is dude). And went over to the closet, complaining about how he was going to lose me to a woman, or someone else. I remember telling him – “I want to be clear, I would like to fuck someone else, but I don’t want to live with anyone else. No other woman is coming to live with us.” and he looked remarkably relieved.
At that point, the male half of my excellent NH friend couple came in for some reason. He started rearranging furniture, not sure why. He split up the beds that me and my random significant other were on, placed them on the other wall, into two twin beds. He left and came back with 2 parachutes, and began to tuck one underneath each mattress. It was a bit of a challenge to make them fit smoothly, and random dude was utterly not helping.
I noticed that my friend used one of my quilts, that I was currently in actuality sleeping with, as a bedskirt to even things out as he pushed to two small mattresses together.
I remember making eye contact with my friend, but I can’t remember him ever speaking to me.I was woken up at 11:08 by a text that requested something that I don’t want to do. I didn’t even look or read it, but fuck you seriously.
I hope that whoever bought my childhood house is absolutely miserable there.
I was at another one of my NH friends’ house. I recognize their house layout, and the location of the fireplace and exposed brick walls. However, my former in-laws, who don’t know them at all even though these friends did know my ex, lived there instead, and my friends were just guests coming over for dinner.
For some reason, it was Thanksgiving. My NH friends brought cheese (they brought the cheese wrapped in tin foil, unsliced, which is not usual and appetizers, and we were planing to go see a movie before or after.
We turned on the TV – this particular friend sat in an easy chair. We were watching an old music video of Danke Schoen which had been translated. I decided that was stupid (it was) but I could tell that my friend thought it was stupid but also thought that my in-laws, who were watching along with us, were stupid and was able to clearly convey in her incredibly expressive yet reserved manner when she’s dealing with people much dumber than her (it happens so often) that we should just leave it because everything is pointless.
I still changed the language on the video, but it was an even stupider overdub rather than a reversion back to the original German. It occurs to me in waking that the same thing happened to us last time I was over her house, watching a Mexican movie that had been stupidly voiced over in English so badly that we had to turn on Spanish subtititles to get through it.
I couldn’t take it, and so I decided I would run to the store. I went out to my car, which incidentally was at a store, parallel parked in a semi-circular drive leading up to the parking lot. For some reason, I had an older style convertible, it was red. And the seats were folded up, and it was raining. Not just raining, but a cold, icy rain, and it had gotten dark, and I remember being afraid that I wasn’t going to be able to make it home.
I was going to explain my fear, but I know me and know what kind of fear I had.
A man walked out of the store – I believe it was a copy of Adams, or Atkins or one of those stereotypical farm stores that starts with A and used to be a hick place but has now over-gentrified so that the people moving up from NY will trust it instead of just fleeing to the fucking Whole Foods.
I believe that I knew the man, who perfectly embodies the type of man who would walk out of a store like that (This means a lot more than I originally thought it did). He was a former client, and one that despite *loving me*, I do not want to see again. He was getting far too attached.I lay in bed so long that my dreams left me, but oddly enough came back, indicating that it’s the interruption of sleep that actually preserves them in a conscious state?
I was honestly considering going to NH tomorrow, and still am (I miss my Father terribly), but the end of the dream with all that ice was kind of scary. I talked to my brother yesterday and he mentioned snow. Maybe it’s just as simple as checking with weather? I hope so. I probably should have gone today.
Because honestly, I’m not going to make it through the weekend with social distance or whatever.
The boy (a German, randomly relating a tangential data point back to a largely irrelevant dream) keeps being scared of the virus. Which I totally get, but then why the fuck aren’t you scared of grocery stores and takeout? Something doesn’t make sense, and I’m beginning to need it to make sense.
(The end of the dream, with my educated gentrified hick former client means something else all of a sudden…) <=== addendum
Why is he unreasonably scared of *me* being a contaminant, but not afraid of touching the same packages on the shelves of a supermarket with a gazillion other people?
Yes, you know what I’m suddenly getting at. The same reason I was going to go into NH to buy my dad groceries, and the same reason that my brother can not risk wearing a mask when he goes shopping.
You know what, I think I’m fucking done with that dude.
I want to call my side dude so we can commiserate on this bullshit but I’m quitting smoking and it’s a little too soon for that.
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The first dream now has a point of reference – Should I tell the story? Doesn’t it even matter? Whatever, here it is
(I’m making an unusual amount of typos lately, which is honestly the only sign that my Father had noticed when he had a stroke. I hope I’m not dying)
No Surprises by Radiohead is playing.
So, I’m with the boy in the middle of nowhere, having some sex en plein aire. Sweet. But not so sweet, according to him, the control freak (which is honestly hot in some contexts but I’ve been unable to break him and not sure if I’m ever going to feel like going through the effort) and he starts freaking out about some random thing, loses his erection, freaks out about that, and then “the whole mood is ruined” bullshit.
Like honestly get over your own dick dude, and realize that not every sexual act is defined by *your* orgasm <=== thankfully, this is not something that my current boyfriend has a problem wrapping his head around. It occurs to me that until I find my Virgo soulmate, dating a Pisces and a Scorpio in tandem might be my best bet for satisfaction. Oh, and that Leo side dude. Knowing my primary occupation, I bet you can guess my zodiac sign... Anyway, yeah as I was saying, fuck that dude.
I failed quitting smoking so I should see what my side dude is doing. Too bad I put a pork bone in this broth I made.
And it all comes together.
The house, that reminds me of my old house, near the place where this boy and I should have fought it out if I weren’t just so easily able to sacrifice my entire self to scream alone inside my own head instead of once again ruining everything to find out if anyone outside of my skull can handle any part of me (they can’t I know it, and I don’t care… but I do) is back on the market.
I’m going to tell him, I think he just texted. I saw my phone light up and let it go dark.
And I let my coffee get cold again.