This Dream I had

First, the major players:
1. A boy I know, have slept with and know I shouldn’t talk to anymore. We’ll call him Dilbert.
2. His Girlfriend. We’ll call her Angie.
3. A boy I know, have not slept with, and to whom am not sure I should have stopped talking. We’ll call him Aaron.

1. My dad. We’ll call him my dad.
2. A swell girlfriend of mine.

So Dilbert, Angie and I are conversating. That’s right, conversating. As one often does in dreams. Angie is cool. She is talking about Dilbert’s later-life circumcision (In life, Dilbert is Jewish). She says, “oh, he needed it. Like drawers need bottoms.” I am listening with earnest intention.

Spontaneously, Dlibert breaks up with Angie and announces that he would like to do it with me. I argue and resist, since Dilbert has behaved so badly. And I am–in real life and the dream–in utter conflict over whether or not I should like him. at all. even as a friend.

My swell girlfriend calls and tells me that her physician has told her that she has every kind of flu virus in her body, and that that is very unusual, but he has not prescribed medication.

Then as suddenly as the conversation about Dilbert’s circumcision began, Dilbert and I are having [very good] sex. (In real life, Dilbert is not much of a lover.) But the whole time, I am–aware of conflict and irony in a dream in ways I have never been before–pretending that Dilbert is actually Aaron. In my dream, that is how I explain the sudden transformation of Dilbert’s skills in lovemaking. Aaron is almost certainly a very good lover.

This is when my dad appears. Somehow, there is nothing at all perverted about his appearance, just odd. He comes into the room where Dilbert and I are screwing and asks me to make him a hot sauce cocktail with the two bottles of hot sauce he’s brought with him. He says, “take your time.” He says, “don’t mind me,” and means it.

Then Dilbert begins to interview me about Aaron after my dad disappears. He tells me that he loves me because I love someone who isn’t him. He asks a thousand questions that I am happy–and even more greatly aroused–to answer.

I wake up just after Aaron, as a floating head, has appeared to Dilbert (Aaron has no awareness of my presence or of the nudity) and Dilbert asks him if he loves me.

Aaron, of course, does not answer before I wake.

And now I puzzle over whether or not to break my fast from him and tell him about this bizarre dream. I think I shall’nt, for I fear rejection, and his fear.


Author: April Line Writing

Writing about whatever the f*ck I want.

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