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May 28, 2006

Four a.m.

I woke up in the middle of the night, sweaty sheets tangled scared.

I was dreaming of him, he was here with me and we were in our condo in Studio City, the kitchen on the bi-level, tan carpet stairs leading to the bedroom. And he said, "I need my freedom."

And I said, "You are my husband, my family."

And he said, "I'm moving out."

And he packed, only this time I was right there begging him not to go, and I was small, and he shut the door behind him and took the winter coats even though it was August and I knew he was never coming back and I cried ...

... and I woke up crying. Sobbing, uncontrollably, "Come back."

Then I looked at the bed, the sheets, the room with the blinds half-askew and the tiny closet and I realized I was home now. He had left a long time ago, it was OK, I was in my bed, inside my house, inside my life, a cat yawned like an old man and stretched his legs and curled back into a ball by the pillow that used to be his (except when he left I chucked all the pillows because I was afraid they smelled like him) and I went to the kitchen, awake now, in bare feet and pajamas and drank the last third of a bottle of Cava, already flat, and smoked two cigarettes even though I quit and remembered he left me already. I had already done it, it was over, I never have to do it again. I am free.

But the dream grabs your hair, scratches your skin, like when you used to wake up next to him and you had dreamed he cheated on you, and you woke up mad and wronged. Then you say: I lived through it, and dreams be damned it is over and I do not know why it came to me at night, I feel betrayed by my own dream-life who is supposed to bring me release from this day-to-day, the one who knows like no one knows how far gone he is, that is over it is past ancient history you lived it ... you control the exterior but never the interior.

He left you already and you survived it. It was only a dream. So you finish your drink and go to bed and it's 4 a.m. and the cat yawns and you smell a pillow he never once touched.

Posted by laurie at May 28, 2006 12:37 PM