Dream of: 01 February 2006 "Half A Page"
I had returned to the Summerdale Drive House from Ohio. I had been away for about a month because I thought my wife Carolina had been seeing a man named Paul. Carolina and I had spent the day together at the House. We had been getting along well together, but now she was becoming restless and she said she was going to go see her mother, Paz. I thought this was just a ruse so she could go see Paul. I knew her mother was working and would be hard to find today. Carolina's story didn't seem to fit. I exploded and told her she was going to go see Paul. She didn't deny it. I angrily asked her if she had "fucked him yet" and I questioned her about their relationship. She nonchalantly walked around and got ready to go while I was exploding in anger.
I began to wish I hadn't returned from Ohio. I should have simply stayed there. Returning here had been a mistake. Finally she said she hadn't "fucked him." I questioned her further about the relationship. She acted as if the hadn't done anything. She said, "Half a page." I thought that meant perhaps he had done no more than raise her blouse. She maintained that nothing had happened between them. At the same time, she didn't say she was going to stop seeing him. I asked, "What about me?"
I knew that Paul now knew that I knew about him. I wanted to know what he thought about me. She acted as if they hadn't even discussed me, as if I hadn't even been in the picture. I really didn't believe that.
As she was getting ready to leave, I was at the same time watching a monitor which displayed my stocks. One stock had gone up $5 today, which was excellent. That was the only stock I could see, but I wanted to check my other stocks to see how all of them had done. I thought I would wait until Carolina left before I did that.
Carolina didn't look quite like herself. She looked a little taller, a little thinner, a little older. She was wearing a sweater. Her breasts looked a little too big and seemed to be sagging somewhat. She wasn't all that impressive.
She mentioned that she had made a copy of everything in "C." I knew I had recently made copies of my dreams in which Carolina had appeared lately and I had put them in a file called "C," but I hadn't put some recent dreams in the file. In a way I was rather glad she had made a copy, but at the same time I wasn't glad. I said, "That's the most fucked up thing I ever heard of." I told her everything wasn't on "C" anyway.
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