dreams: September 12, 1998
going back to Beach St.
I'm in a cafe/coffeeshop. Liz (from across the street) is with me, and we're talking.
I'm packing up my food in a bag to go: a cup of soup and two corn muffins.
I see Mom sitting at a table a few tables away from us.
Suddenly she yells "STOP!!" at the top of her
lungs, in reference to something I'm saying or doing.
I'm mad and hurt. She always has to have control.
Then we're up at 808 Beach Street, standing in the driveway.
I'm tired of all the conflict.
For a moment I just feel pure love and compassion for Mom.
I call her over and look at her, taking both her hands in mine.
I say something nice and we both laugh, like things are okay.
Part of me likes the sense of resolution,
but another part of me hates slipping back into old patterns of the
relationship by means of simply pleasing her,
telling her what she wanted to hear.
I'm showing my bedroom to
John.
It's a mess, with both rooms totally disheveled. Clothes
and things are all over the floor.
- FIN -