Dreams tell of unfinished business

For some odd reason, Petula Clark’s Don’t Sleep in the Subway reminds me of rain. Some­thing tender.

I had this dream about Malissa. I thought that she was done with. I thought that I had completely finished all things about her in my mind and in my heart. But appar­ently not. Appar­ently, in the dream, my brother had started talking with her and they went out to have fun together. I can’t be sure if it was a date, but they had a good time. I think that they went to some kind of arcade/carnival. When my brother told me, I was enraged, and I started smashing the wooden door into pieces. When I destroyed enough of both of the doors, I went on to punching the wall, and when that wasn’t enough, I wrapped my hand in cloth and started hitting some­thing that was stronger, like the door frame. When my furious tantrum was over, I encouraged my brother to talk to me about it. I wasn’t mad at him, and I wasn’t partic­u­larly jealous. I just wanted to know some­thing. I asked my brother to mention me to her, to see what was possible…

The anger and frus­tration was rather real when I awoke. My shoulders feel sore as if I were recov­ering from an adren­aline crash. My breathing was short and shallow. I hadn’t thought of Malissa in the longest time…I don’t know…I suppose only my subcon­scious will ever truly know what goes on in my head and in my heart.