Losin' my soul.
Last night, I dreamt my ex was a centaur, and we were staying in a budget hotel suite so that I could watch our kid. And my ex's new beau was there too. I don't remember everything that happened, but I needed to get from New York to CT, though I'm not sure the hotel was even in NY to begin with.
The air was thick with tension, I remember that much. A lot of regret between me and the centaur, the kind of unspoken things you see alluded to in movies or tv scenes where the two love interests avoid eye contact or talk about banal, mundane things. We were trying to avoid quicksand, I think. For our kid's sake.
Dreams follow their own logic. Logic that doesn't seem to apply anywhere else.
Still trying to figure out how a centaur fit in a normal-sized hotel bedroom.
The air was thick with tension, I remember that much. A lot of regret between me and the centaur, the kind of unspoken things you see alluded to in movies or tv scenes where the two love interests avoid eye contact or talk about banal, mundane things. We were trying to avoid quicksand, I think. For our kid's sake.
Dreams follow their own logic. Logic that doesn't seem to apply anywhere else.
Still trying to figure out how a centaur fit in a normal-sized hotel bedroom.