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Long dream

It is daytime. A lot is going on here. There is a place, its a living room with a long narrow curvy hallway leading to a very small narrow bathroom. Its my most recent exboyfriend's apartment/town. (Not the ex I wrote about before, that was a long time ago.) I'm hanging out a lot here, spending a lot of time. I keep going to the bathroom, several times. The bathroom is down a curvy hallway. Its really narrow. There is a little girl knocking on the door who needs to go. this is before things go badly with the ex. I bought a tee-shirt when I was in his town. I was clothes shopping at an outlet warehouse. The prices were wholesale but my female friend who was there with me said that these days the price isn't even ten dollars cheaper, than retail, the way it used to be. The rack of clothes I was going through had all kaftan tunics, made of polester cotten blends with v-necks and light brown beads sewn around the neck. The shirts were in all colors but muted colors- not bright. All were similar styles. My husband also lived in this apartment and one day a guy came to fix the washing machine and was moving it around. The apartment had a couch and a small dining table set. Just the bare minimum. Things were strained with my husband and ex.

Later, I'm still in a relationship with this ex. I realize long after that I should not have made myself so available and vulnerable in that relationship. It is daytime and there is a pretty and popular women with big curls in her red hair. She is a photojournalist and is now dating my ex and I'm dying from the pain of rejection and being taken for granted. There is so much regret, jealousy, loss at this lost relationship. Part of me was hanging on hoping it wouldn't be over knowing I sabotaged it by how I acted and I'm so jealous of this woman and her talents. He's two timing both of us, dating her even though we never broke up. The relationship just deteriorated. She's setting up to give her lecture-in a slum. We are in a hallway outside the lecture hall where she is trying to present about a war she traveled to and photographed;'shot'. We meet up with a city official in the hall- maybe the major. He is praising her. I feel so inferior and regrettful. And probably jealous.

Now its night. I'm walking in this slum and a taxi drove by me with a woman driver. They don't want to stop for me. There was a bad man in the backseat blindfolding a baby in his lap with his hand. He was the 'real' driver and he was trying to prove to someone he had a license to drive. After the car passed I realized it was a private car and not a taxi. A lot of private cars went by but I couldn't find a taxi.

Now a group of men are walking with me. Its day again and we are walking out of the slum where the lecture would be. One of the men is creepy and I don't want him to walk behind me because I am afraid he will sexually harass me and grope me. I ask the good guy to switch places but he refuses. I'm really upset by this. Suddenly I had to go to the bathroom. Its in the slum in the same building where the photojournalist was presenting. The men stood outside the bathroom making nasty comments the whole time. It really hurt. I had to pee. I had a hard time going through the process especially taking my clothes off and then back on again. The nice guy had light strawberry colored longish blond hair and was wearing a suit. The bad guy had a butch haircut and brown hair.

Now its night again. I get to the end of the slum and it turns into a high class neighborhood area by a major road bridge by the river. I'm near the opera house. I see my friend N. After she passes I call out to her. Her hair is black and cut in choppy layers and is in a ponytail. She tells me I look so relaxed. I am wearing all white. She's walking to the right. She's on her way to see her boyfriend who is friends with another man, a mutual friend who knows my ex so I feel so hurt and burned by this, its so intense I can't go with her because what my ex did hurt me so much and the mutual friend of her boyfriend was sometimes at the apartment of my ex. I can't and shouldn't go with her. So I go to a boutique in an isolated or seedy part of town. But its a very high class store. I pick out a dark blue pair of short shorts, a sexy red top, sleeveless and a sexy tight white top. The store people take forever to help me so I get mad and in the end decide not to buy anything. I tell them I want an all white suit but they have suits that are wintery, tweed, with colors and patterns. I am shown white clothes but they don't have long sleeves. I try to purchase the three items but no one helps me. I narrow down the purchase, the shorts get rejected first. Then I find out the red top is used and it has fuzz balls on it to prove it. I show it to the sales lady. I reject that. I want the white top but don't buy it.

As I leave the store two men are standing by the door. One is African-American. He says, 'I like you.' I tell him I like you back. The other man is a white American and he's smoking a ciggarette.

I'm in a taxi and I tell him to take me to campus. When I get there I tell him the name of my neighboorhood and to take me home. I gave him three dollars before. Because he's heading towards home I pay him another dollar. He got mad because he almost had an accident and hit the car in front of us and said, 'how can you distract me in the middle of traffic.' However, he's not mad about changing directions and taking me home after we arrived at our destination and I'm surprised he's not mad about that.
This happened during the day.

Now its still day and I'm going to the bathroom. There are two girls there with me, its a big bathroom. I'm wearing the white tee shirt I got at my ex's town and one of them is telling me that the tag is still attached to it and making a lump at the back of my neck. She is touching the tag. They see the contents of the toilet as they exit the bathroom ahead of me and I'm so embarrassed. It was a lot, not diarehha but long thick pieces and I had a difficult time getting it to flush down, I kept flushing. I also had two booklets that I wanted to flush but they wouldn't go down. I tried several times.

Now its nighttime and I'm in my parent's neighborhood. Groups of people are socializing. My friend S. is there. She had a really horrible experience in real life. She was raped and lost her virginity when she was a teen. She became emotionally unstable after that. I'm smoking a ciggarete. I don't smoke in real life. I don't my health conscious judgemental neighbor to see me. He's across the street. My parent's next door neighbor is lying in the grass in front of his house fixing something with his house. He is evesdropping and has blond hair.

S. is having problems and she's discussing with another female friend in the backyard. At one point everyone was in the front yard and they moved to the back. All the men were paired off in groups of two and talking to each other. I'm excluded from both the women's and men's groups. I feel so lonely. I feel so excluded. I am thinking- here is the second generation and they are homeowners and making decisions, and directing their life and I am nothing. Just treated like a kid by my parents who won't let me assume any position of leadership. I feel small, hurt, excluded. I feel like I didn't amount to anything like the men who owned the homes and who were talking with real authority, as real men. I felt like a loser. I also felt excluded from the women. I didn't have anyone to talk to, to be part of a supportive one on one discussion with. I was just wandering around in the dark wishing I could belong to these discussions. The women sat on the back porch/balcony on the right side. The men sat in the grass on the right side of the house in the backyard of my parent's house.

Its daytime. Im a member of a dance studio. Someone photographed us. I was wearing all black. I was the only one. All the other women wore pretty pink ballerina outfits showing off their long pretty light colored limbs - except me. I felt so ugly, and so diferent. Someone minimized the photos, shrunk them, so I couldn't find myself again. Actually they probably overenlarged them. They were like Harry Potter Portraits where the subjects can move around and walk around- another reason why I couldn't find myself. Also, I knew I would have looked good in a pink ballerina costume. I felt resentment. I was trying to zoom in on the photos and that made tiny background details look huge and lose sight of the whole picture making it even harder to find myself.

Whew! Finally finished. In real life the relationship with this ex was very clearly cut off with closure much before I was married and there was no two timing involved.


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