Reckoning

[ehowton]

Last couple of nights of dreams have been insane. Vignettes as it were over the course of my life. Each sequence highly specific to how I’ve either fucked up some relationship, or been taken advantage of in some impactful way. Presented in tableaus, each "episode" tailored for storytelling, like the old black and white television show, This is Your Life but in place of joyful highlights, a presentation of a gritty, exaggerated caricature of myself. Each "episode" was two-hours long, with me waking briefly between each one.

The first one which stands out was a visit with my mother. She was thin, single, and living in a bare maze-like multilevel apartment - and there were people everywhere. Families, mostly. Like, she was dating this older gentleman who was a swinger and when he visited her he brought his son and daughter, their respective spouses, and their kids. And he wasn't the only visitor that day. Whole groups of families playing video games, sports ball in the empty house, and prepping and laying out snacks for everyone in the kitchen. It was a mess. Add to that Mom kept moving from room to room stopping and chatting with everyone so it was difficult to find her and let her know I was there for a visit. It was only when I was at my limit with the noise and chaos and decided to leave that she confronted me for a hug before I left. But she was back at the visiting and revelry before the door even closed behind me. None of that was indicative of who she was as a person, so when I awoke I wondered what it said about me. I also mostly dream about my father, or the two of them together when I dream of her. Rarely (ever?) just her. And that's when I remembered she passed nearly ten years ago. It was kind of sad.

I fell back asleep and my son, his girlfriend, and my grandson were over for a visit. He had the baby and was working the smoker and his girlfriend wanted to see something on the computer so I made my way over to it with her in tow. As I got closer I noticed a slide-show screensaver playing on the monitor...of her. I found that odd but assumed I must've created something from all the pictures I had. Before I could finish the thought, the pictures started slide-showing more inappropriate photos of her. Starting to get alarmed - because I had no idea where these had originated or why they were playing as my screensaver - I touched the mouse to bring me to the login screen, but the mouse didn't respond, and the photos were turning pornographic. I stole a glance over my shoulder to see if she was looking and she was - but she was squinting as if she couldn't exactly make out what it was she was seeing. There were now photographs of her mixed with AI renders in highly suggestive poses as if someone (me?) was intentionally creating a fantasy. Panic in full swing now, I was repeatedly pounding ctrl-alt-del on the unresponsive keyboard as she caught up, and stood beside me clearly seeing the images on the screen. I knew there would be nothing I could say or do to fix this, and that my son would never believe I hadn't intentionally created them. I woke up, and was mortified. What did it all mean?

When I fell back asleep I was apparently a successful screenwriter, author, and songwriter who was living a stereotypically tortured life with all the trappings of fame; sad and alone in my gilded cage, surrounded by sycophants. Then Cass showed up. With one of her boy-toys. She was making a huge production about how we used to date but I was never enough for her - though she did show some signs of sincerity when retelling the story of how she nearly drowned once and I had saved her - and how that wasn't enough for her either. Inexplicably, to prove her point, she recreated the original scene by jumping into the same outdoor pool where she'd nearly drowned the first time, and again, didn't come back up. Her boy-toy got alarmed and jumped in after her, pulling her from the water. This time she was livid at me for not jumping in to save her. So much rage directed at me because - apparently - she had very nearly drowned for real this time, and I couldn't be bothered. This told her everything she needed to know about how I felt about her as she clung to the boy-toy thanking him over and over. Looking over at me she told him, "Yeah, I dated him on and off for five years but he was never good enough." When I awoke from that one, I'd had enough and didn't want to go back to sleep.