Watch my World Dissolve

I woke up dazed by my dreams. They spoke to me directly, knowingly bringing subjects about which I had just thought. The dreams didn’t want to let me forget, forgive, they brought memories and feelings I can only loosely describe as scary. What follows is the tale I dreamt of.

In what seemed to be a preparation for a party, a group of people gathered in my apartment. Some where in the kitchen, preparing a cake, woven from wide chocolate stripes, being prepared just like woven baskets are. It was symbolizing a horse and I know there was a rider in the imagery but I get confused and cannot recall exactly where the rider was. A college friend was there, someone whose friend I developed a crush on. As I moved deeper into my apartment, I saw that girl for whom I had a crush, let’s call her A. The one that makes your heart race and your head spin. That kind of girl. She knew how to push my buttons but I moved towards her to end things. I sat with her and another girl nearby, whom I will call J, and wrote a goodbye letter. And a love letter. To her, it was the goodbye letter, to the other girl in the room, it was the love letter. I printed it out and tried to give it to her but J took it from my hands. As I tried to speak, to break up with A, she started to try and tell me of her affection, showing me a hand-sewed bag, adorned with images and mementos in my honor. They spoke of wolfs, birth, motherhood, love and war. It moved me and I don’t even know precisely why, because one should not need a bag with painting decals to make the other know what the hell is going on. As she showed me this, J, who I’ve always liked, stared at me, jealous. She looked very different from what I know she looks like but… it was her. I took the letter out of her hands, worried that that would ruin my relationship with A. I ripped the letter apart, asking J how far had she read it and she only replied “As far as the other name appears.”. I knew she had read the title of the love letter that I wrote for herself. I continued tearing the paper apart, taking it to a trash bin… and all the time, J stared at me. There she was, in the hallways, looking at me. Hiding secrets. Girl A was nowhere to be found after that and I looked at the ripped letter in my hands, it had turned into dough, as in, pizza dough. I looked around trying to understand what was happening but… there was no sense to be made out of it.
The more I think of it, the less I like this dream. It remembers me of funerals, as if I was the one dying. Or were I already dead?

I can’t shake the feeling of this dream away and how awful I feel right now. I feel betrayed, lost in a maze of shadows. I feel… a bit dead. And I have yet to see someone understand that.