Dream of: 23 January 2006 (3) "Harsh Words"

Carolina and I were getting ready to go to my class reunion. As I walked around the room, I looked at myself in a mirror -- I was wearing a blue sweat shirt and blue pants. I asked Carolina if she thought I should put on a regular shirt. She didn't say anything, but I started looking around for a shirt. I opened the closet, which was packed with shirts hanging on hangers. My attention, however, was drawn to a shirt lying on a shelf. I thought to myself that I had worn that particular shirt to the class reunion which I had attended 20 years ago. I certainly didn't want to wear that shirt again.

Instead, I pulled out a brand new white shirt with different colored stripes on it. I asked Carolina where this shirt had come from and she said her mother, Paz, had given me the shirt as a present. I told Carolina I didn't want to wear anything from her mother; I was angry with Paz because I thought she had been trying to split Carolina and me up.

Nevertheless, I began taking the pins out of the shirt and unfolding it. The collar was small, about half the normal size. I figured the small collar was the new style.

As I slipped on the shirt, I told Carolina I wanted to ask her some questions. She looked at me and said she didn't like the sound of that. I knew we would be driving for about a hour on the way to the reunion, and I thought I could talk to her during our ride. I told her I wasn't going to become angry -- I just wanted some explanation about what was going on with her, about our impending separation.

As she pulled on her top, she looked right at me. I looked at her bare neck, her bright red lipstick, and her frilly pink dress. About 20 years old, she didn't look like her normal self. I thought to myself she looked like a typical Mexican with over-done makeup. Nevertheless, she was very pretty. 

I didn't want to antagonize her, but continuing to speak, I told her I thought I had a right to know what was going on. After all, we had been married for 17 years. To suddenly wake up one day, and without any explanation discover that the relationship was finished ... I told her I thought I had a right to know what had happened.

When she didn't say anything, I blurted, "I know you've fucked this guy." I thought my words sounded harsh, but it was too late -- I had already said it.

She didn't deny it. Now I was more determined than ever to question her on the way to the reunion and try to find out what was going on.

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