She asked me for pictures of me and the boy (she never got pictures of me and my ex, there were some amazing pictures), and I have none. It was then when I questioned if we were actually in a relationship. He’s not a performative partner, he’s actually lazy as hell in that regard. Should I even bother getting pictures of him?
Actually, there was nothing important about the dream, except that I dreamed about my brother, in a house I couldn’t recognize in my sleep, except that now I recognize it as our old house, where we grew up.
The rug was a lighter, beige color, and new. The bathroom fixtures had been replaced with something generic and white. I wonder if that is how it looks now. I hope whoever bought it falls down the stairs and dies.