(dream found on a crumpled note paper)
I was me but different and young, maybe 21 or 22. My family wasn't as it is but similar. I borrowed my dad's truck and parked it in the same spot it is now (??) but in the night someone hit it and plowed it into the tree. it was pretty battered. all my friends came to help move it and clean it out. My parent's friend, anthony bourdain, came too. My whole life was in that truck. I cried and cried as we took out old drawings, etc... When we all stopped for lunch people started using the art for place mats and I sat on anthony's lap as he sat on a milk crate in the garage in the woods. I realized that we were into each other and our friends didn't notice as we started holding hands and looking longingly at each other. Maybe we felt a bit guilty too. he was in his late thirties or so and my parents, his friends, would not approve but we were in love.