I am at a party but it’s my house, except I’m leaving and moving into another house even though I just moved in. She is there and is being mean to me. Even with distance between us, I can feel her petulance, her annoyance that my stuff, my books, my posters, are littering the room. It is her friends that are here. I am quickly grabbing things: novels and picture frames and I can’t explain to anyone why I would leave this big house. I’m not upset but I feel rushed. Out of nowhere, she comes up behind me and shoves me. Ready with rebuke, I twirl but you grab both of my hands from behind. You lead me into a bedroom. You are holding me with all of your might and you are saying, “relax.” The pressure you put on my body is soothing like a weighted blanket. Without explanation, the room has a bathtub and we are both in it and you are holding me down. I am breathing and becoming relaxed. This part feels like a daydream, not a dream but my imagination. Everything leading up to it felt out of my control until you walked in the room.
I wake up sad. I don’t try to guess the time. I turn over and look at my cat, content just to be next to me.
“Let’s go make the beans.”
But as soon as I say the lie, my eyelids shut and I am taken again.


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