2003-08-26 10:13 a.m.
Be quiet, Subconscious, or I'll stab you with a Q-tip

Already pissed off today. Steve got called back to work a day early because the imbecile manager quit. The one everyone hated; so I guess it's a good thing that she's causing major problems elsewhere now, but it cut my Steve's vacation short by a day. Whatever will I do without him? I guess I could ride the Pa train to the city tomorrow and bum around the Village by myself. Spend the day in St. Mark's Comics blowing my last fifty bucks; now there's a plan. Anyway, this is not what I meant to write about.

This is:

Jeremy and I parted ways over six years ago after a tumultuous yet undoubtedly unforgettable relationship. It was I who did the leaving. He's married now, with a baby girl. We made our peace, sort of, the last time I saw him, two years ago at a bar where mutual friends of ours were playing. Why am I still having dreams about him? It's normal for me, about a year after a breakup, to have a slew of dreams involving the most recent ex; and then it's gone, no more dreams where the ex has the starring role. He might show up as a supporting character in other dreams, or I might have a sporadic few over time where he has a vivid cameo of some kind, but hardly ever does he pop up again and again as who my dream is about. Jeremy does. There was the one where I was, for some reason, walking up his driveway in the snow and then his mean rottweiler careened out of the garage to attack me, but his dad prevented it. All the while, he was looking down upon this scene from a second floor window of the house. Then there was the one where he was chasing me around a space station, trying to kill me, and I hid in a room that had desks in it, like a space station classroom or something. Then there was this one, last night's dream, where there was a large gathering of people...a party? But I get the feeling that there wasn't a positive reason for this gathering. It was at his house, but not the house I know of as his in real life. His parents were there; I was standing by a fence and his mother caught sight of me and said hello stiffly. I was watching him over the fence talking to some people and caught from their conversation that Daisy was leaving him, with their daughter who was now about 6 or 7, and another man. He was going mad over the situation, and then he saw me. He calmed. He came over to me. Said, "Hello, Sarah", with his soft voice. He sounded sad, but not unhappy to see me, as though my being there brought him to some level of grave acceptance of his situation (What am I, the Angel of Grim Tidings or something?). Then, we stood together as his wife and child (who was blonde, with her mother's mouth, blue-eyed and tall) came from the rear of the house, both of them heckling him as they walked resolutely past, to climb aboard a very, very long rowboat in which there was a man sitting. The man was fat, with his greying hair in a crew cut, in a light grey, stained up t-shirt and shorts. Suddenly, the clips of conversation I'd heard earlier came back to me. "Well, he's an older man." "Maybe she thinks he'll take care of her, maybe it's the money." Then we both watched as Daisy settled her child in the boat and began ministering to this man as though he were a child himself, her voice soft as she spoke to him, hard and hateful as she intermittently spewed venom Jeremy's way. He and I were still standing together, close, silent, though still on opposite sides of the fence. There were no feelings between us aside from the kind felt between two very old friends, and that feeling and the strength of it shone from our eyes towards her, leaving. It was as though my presence evened out the two sides, theirs and his. And that was the end of it. That's all. Now, can anybody tell me what in the nine hells this shit means?

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