Influence on dream:
I watched a tv show called Reef Break and in the show the main character was a master thief and con woman. She had a knack for breaking into people’s houses skillfully, but some of the time she got caught. Also, I had been reading this webtoon earlier in the week, where the main character, Edith, has the tendency to push people away. Even when she is lonely and she just overthinks everything (I mean who doesn’t).
Dream
I broke into the children’s minister’s house (the man didn’t actually look like the real person) because I was trying to find him to tell him some good news, but also that I needed some help. We had an interesting type of relationship. We were kind of friends. I get into trouble here and there, which most of the time I don’t need help, but he’s the person I go to when I do need help. He’s also one of those friends who knows me really well, but I tend to strain the friendship by… well… inviting myself into people’s houses… well, his.
This would be one of those times where he gets really mad at me.
I had driven over to his place with the intention of wanting to tell him some good news, but then my car stopped just a couple houses away. What easier way to do get his attention besides ringing the doorbell, would be to come through the window. Mind you, this is a second story house. So, purely for the fun of it, I challenged myself to scale the side of the house to get to the second floor hallway window. He happened to have a tree right near the window that came in handy for quick escapes (when needed). This time I started to climb the trellis that was roped to the house by some vines. It was pretty easy. Once I got up to the window sill I took my tools out and jimmied open the window and slid myself through. I tried to be like a spy… totally quiet, but I need to work on my landing. Since, I was pulling myself through the window, I fell in head first. So, was it graceful? No, but I got in!
As I walked around, the house actually seemed too quiet. Darn! He’s not here! I walked down the stairs to the first level to the kitchen. I guess I’ll just write him a note and check in later. So, I’m scribbling down on a notepad that I’m having some car trouble and I have some good news. I asked if he could meet me at the park near his house to help me out. Then I walk down the hall and decide to come out of the garage like a semi-normal person, when the door to the garage opens.
Shoot!
I freeze mid-step and come face to face with my friend. His face rapidly changed from surprise to confusion to anger. Oh no, I’m about to get an earful… “Rose! What do you think you are doing here without my permission?! I thought we had talked about this! This is turning into a problem.” I tried to interject, “Well, I needed–” He cut me off, “What you need is to respect my boundaries. I want you out.”
I’m now rushed outside facing the door protesting when he shuts the door in my face. I sigh. Well, that didn’t go over well. What do I do now? I really need his help to start the car!
I get back into my car feeling defeated. Why do I keep messing things up with him? I really value our friendship. Is he finally tired of me? I know I need to make some personal changes, but I have been like this for so long. I’ve needed to take care of myself, so I do have some unorthodox type of principles in making that happen, but that’s how I’ve protected myself. He was my first friend in so long. I set my forehead on the steering wheel and start to cry.
Later on, in the week I was approached by some ladies that I worked with. We were all friendly, well, they were friendly with me, I just have a hard time opening up to others. I tried to be nice in my own way. I had been having a tough couple of weeks, after all I’m a single mother, taking care of a baby with just my grandmother supporting me has been stressful and lonely. These few weeks they had noticed that I was being more distant than usual and they were confronting me about it.
These women were tired of making the effort in asking me out to join them for outings and having me reject them. I had my reasons and I told them of different excuses every time, either that I was too tired or that I had to help my grandma out. Except I wasn’t being totally truthful with them. They didn’t know that I had a baby. A baby out of wedlock.
This was the new job that I was excited to tell my friend, Tim about. My baby girl, was finally old enough for my grandma to be the one to take care of her while I could work during part of the day. My grandma did what she could to get some income for our household. She took her home made items and the vegetables and fruits she grew from her garden to the farmers market. She had bake sales that were really popular, but we really needed more.
You might be wondering about my parents. They had never been very reliable as I grew up, so I had to learn to take care of myself. It was only my grandma that showed me what love looked like. I could also blame my parents for what led up to my poor decisions partly by them not being good role models or showing what a healthy relationship looked like. I didn’t show good judgement with the man I thought I loved, but who got me pregnant and then left me.
If my parents were ever proud of me before, they certainly were not now. They kicked me out of the house once they found out. Really, they must have been itching for a reason to get rid of me. I wouldn’t be able to be of much help for their scams while pregnant, so they had no use of me any longer.
I don’t know how my dad could have been the son of grandma and turned out like he did, but he made his own life choices despite my grandma raising him on her own. Grandma Jean always tried to come over to bring me food or toys when I was young and my mother would yell at her for trying to spoil me or think grandma was calling her a bad mother inadvertently. It was grandma Jean who saved me from being homeless and saved me from making even worse decisions. She saved my life and my child’s. I had moved in with grandma, which meant that I was in a new town and I could start over.
I knew Tim from the time before I got pregnant, we went to the same high school, he was a couple years older than me. He tried to show me what a normal friendship looked like, though it could never be normal because of me. We stayed in touch through letters even after he moved away. My grandma happened to live in the town he had moved to, so I knew that things wouldn’t be that bad once I got there. He was the only one that knew that I had a child in this new place (besides grandma of course). I wanted to keep it that way. You might wonder how that would be possible? My grandma lived just outside of the town, there would be no nosy neighbors and I could just live a quiet life.
Well, that was what I hoped.
The women that I worked with new that I wasn’t being open with them and they were tired of it. I couldn’t just tell them, what mattered to me most in the world. I know they wanted to know me, but I wasn’t ready for them to know my story or my child.
The whole time they were lecturing me, one woman (she seemed like the ring leader) was telling me that I should be more grateful that they made the effort to talk to me. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to tell her anything after this “intervention.” Some of the other women I knew were being genuine and just wanted to know what I was thinking.
I wanted to cry and just yell that I can’t do this alone.
Then I started to wake up and all I wanted to do was to go back to sleep, so I could tell them off.
-end