I'm going on about three hours of sleep each day. Well, that's if I'm lucky.... I'd like to say that staying up late is making me more damn productive but my spelling, my grammer, and my writing is not very pretty at the moment. My creativity is non-existant.
I need to sleep.
I fell asleep about 5:00 this morning and dreamt of my old boyfriend, again. The dream sums up everything I'm trying to do very well...so I guess I'll share.
There I was, standing on the ground level of his house (as I imagine it would look), stuck in a corner trying to clean up a mess. The more I cleaned that mess, the more it stayed the same.
There were no cobwebs, only a stain. I kept scrubbing and cleaning to no avail.
My dream self was incredibly frustrated.
I looked around and saw him sleeping on the couch and I looked out the window and saw a beautiful woman waiting to come inside. I try to open the window but I couldn't do it.
She's so pretty.
I wonder if it would upset him more if I continued to stay and clean up the mess or if I should leave it up to them. If I stay, I may end up cleaning it or I will make it impossible for her to come into his life. If I leave, he won't have to deal with me, she can come into his life but that house will be tainted by that stupid stain.
So...I watch him sleep and wonder what is in his best interest. She's so pretty and she's alone. He's alone. It really would be best if I left.
So, I leave and explain to her what I'm doing. I'm going to leave a slight mess because I was a stupid kid and broke his heart. I apologize for forcing her to clean it up but I lack the ability to do so and if I stay too long, he'll never have a shot with her.
She smiles.
So, I leave.
Joyfully, I walk through an emerald forest and listen to the breeze sway in the trees. I smell the fresh scent in the air. I hear the animals moving around.
I turn around and....
there he is following me.
I wish I knew what to do. I care for him deeply but I don't know how else to clean up the mess I made at seventeen.
My ex-husband was destroyed by his high-school sweetheart. He'd fly into violent rages and call me her name before beating the crap out of me and sending me to the hospital.
Apparently, Renee looked just like me.
He hated women who had a name that started with R and swore to avoid them at all costs. So, when I fled, I changed my name to the most obnoxious name beginning with the letter R.
It is the name of a resort.
He hated high-school sweethearts, so can you guess what my last name was? It was the last thing he ever guessed.
The idea came to me when I visited a store that sold model trains at Cherry Creek Mall. We had the Rio Grande and Thomas the Tank Engine.
It took him eight years and a private investigator to find me. I'm such a witch but it worked. It was certainly cheaper than repairing broken windshields, broken windows and hospital visits.
The point is that I never want anyone else to have to clean up my mess like I tried to do with my ex-husband. I want to be honest and open but realize that I am very clammed up around my friend. I think it is because I don't want him to ever get hurt again...I'm afraid to get too close, for fear that we'll end up wounded again.
I have a friend who is trying to understand what happened between he and his high-school sweetheart. That man set me straight. I guess clamming up is the meanest thing I could do, even if I'm well-meaning. Sometimes it takes another man, complaining about a similiar situation, to get me to see how stupid I am.
I wish I knew what to do.
Do I run away or do I stay and scrub?
Help??
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