Just Had Another Dream About Richard….I wake up and it’s just a dream….I Hate These Things

For the past two years I’ve been tormented quite often with dreams like this.  This time, I was googling for something I now forget, and accidentally came across a forum or blog run by Richard.

In the beginning there were parts in the blog that appeared to be about our situation, but either I’d click on them and they were something else, or they would begin to vanish as I proceeded through the blog.

Some of them were his wacky politics, something about danger in the sun hitting him and how it was related to some apocalypse so beware my friends.

Then I began to write a comment, and somehow as I wrote I was suddenly in his actual physical presence, maybe in his house.

What did I write?  It was something like, “I’m sorry all this has happened,” and some more regret, wishing things were different, maybe wishing he had not been caught up in all this, as I began to cry–and then there he was.

We began to talk, and I discovered that he still did care and regretted things, too, but he was following what his wife wanted, and really hated the things that were going on.

There was something about a lemon cake, him being fed this cake and it having a sour taste, him scrunching up his face, because the sour taste was related to how she was treating me.

I began to realize that I could stop feeling pain every time I thought of his children.

…And then I woke up.  It was all just a dream.  Just a stupid dream.  Not reality at all.

Well, except for what I wrote to his blog.

Dang, I hate these dreams.

Somehow I have to delete the Stockholm Syndrome.  Anybody who would defend his wife’s bullying of me, and not allow me to speak up and complain about it, is not worth my grief, is not a true friend.

If he does apologize one day as in this dream, it can be a pleasant surprise, a miracle, a proof that there is indeed a God who listens to my prayers…..

I know what I should do: Look at the mug shots again and imagine his little girl’s face, remember how I felt when my brother choked me….

I have to get him out of my heart.  If he truly changes, that’s different–but then, I’ve heard that one from him before, that he had abused the kids in the past but had changed, and I believed him…..

Fool me once, shame on you.  Fool me twice, shame on me.