Honeycombs

When I woke up today at 1:49, I remembered some of my dreams. I decided that I was pleased with this time, but would be alright taking an extra 10 minutes to lay down flat and relax my neck (I really need another chiropractor) and then woke up at 3:26.

I kind of don’t want to face this day, even though it is the most beautiful day that we’ve had in quite a while. There’s a few things.

Primarily, I have a matter to settle with my ex. He’s fucking up again. I don’t want to say much more about the specifics of this as they are highly identifying, but instead I just looked around my new office and debated putting up curtains right now. I guess I don’t want to talk about it.

I’ve got plenty to do right now. I just got up and looked at the air conditioner. I’m using the pronoun that indicates defensiveness, I’m glad that I can spot it earlier on than I used to.

Why am I scared? Why do I let him do this to me? I have let myself be scared of him for so long, I suppose, after a nice long pause, after a few years of reflection, I can finally begin to admit that maybe he was abusive, and it wasn’t just me being awful, or even just us being awful to each other.

There is nothing he can do to me anymore. I’m trying to move the situation forward so that there’s even less he can do to me, and I’m beginning to see, based on how resistant he is to that, that he is trying to control me. He doesn’t want to let go of me.

It breaks my heart all over again, it does. But we have to. Just look at what we’ve done, there is no way at all that we can possibly put this mess back together. No fucking way, and believe me I have been looking. We have to move on.

Anyway, I had some dreams last night.

I was at the bottom of a hill, it felt like there was a company outing / family picnic going on. There were games being played at the top of the hill, but it was really really steep, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go up to the top.

I remember seeing my neighbor, who, as time goes on, looks and acts more and more like my ex’s psycho sister. How are people allowed to just go around utterly insane like that?

I don’t know, I thought I remembered more of this, but I guess it’s gone now.

The other dreams indicate that this was in fact a company picnic, but hopefully I’m not just letting myself make sense of more than actually makes sense. I’ve done that so much in my waking life as well – like come up with a decade’s worth of excuses for an abuser.

I was at, what I believe, is a fancy resort and spa (I quickly scanned my memory for places it might have been, but I don’t want to hurt the actual memory just yet, like nailing a butterfly down with a pin for display) and, I was supposed to go pick up a very prestigious client from his room, and get him ready for some meeting.

I wish this dream felt unusual.

Apparently, he was spending the morning at the spa, so I remember being naked in a white fluffy robe, and walking around the well kept communal showers made of honey colored concrete. The place was trying to look like a cave, or maybe even the inside of a honeycomb, but just emote the *feeling* of it (honeycomb-esque) so that they couldn’t be criticized for not nailing it on realism.

I don’t think I was alone, knowing the sickening probability of the situation I was accompanied by an Asian chick and a blonde girl. I think I do remember an Asian girl, probably pulled from my memory somewhere but not sure where.

We found our dude, tanned, relaxed, with a sinewy ski bum vibe, relaxing, also naked, in a broiling honey colored hot tub in the back of the “cave”. He was probably in his early 50’s, but thanks to his “relaxed” lifestyle and millions of dollars in med spas, retained an overall youthful vibe. I can’t remember who was in the tub with him.

Did one of us get in? Did I? Do I remember? Does it matter?

I had more to say, the dream went on, but I’m out of coffee and not feeling so powerfully about this today.

I opened up my work email last night.

This is it.

One Comment Add yours

  1. Anna says:

    This feeling… I hate work.

    I mean I don’t, but I hate having to go to work.

    There’s no real point to this comment, other than to acknowledge that after almost a year, I still recognize my feelings with perfect clarity.

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