I have recently been torn about whether or not to break up with my boyfriend. I’ve been feeling like I need more space to have fun and do whatever I want (see other people). But I do love him, and he is very sweet.
In my dream I was somewhere and somebody got a phone call. Whoever she was said that my boyfriend was dead. All I felt was “numb.” The next day, I was at my Grandmother’s house in Oklahoma. (I now live in San Francisco. She doesn’t approve of my relationship, because it is interracial.)
I started to grieve, and cry uncontrollably. I went out onto her front porch and sat on a swing (like the kind on a playground) that was off to the side. My boyfriend came to me, but I knew he was still dead. A man in a station wagon taxi filled with dogs pulled up in her driveway at the same time. My boyfriend held me while I cried and said, “Nothing happens when you die, you’re just alone.” Then he was gone, but I felt much better like I would see him again.
My dog went and got into the taxi. My grandmother made me call “someone” to bring the dog back. So I did, and some other man brought the dog back. When I woke up, all I could think about was how much I love him and don’t want to lose him.
I recently cheated on my boyfriend with someone that drove a taxi. Although I didn’t know him “biblically,” and it only happened once, I feel really guilty about it. As for the dogs, a major issue when my boyfriend and I lived together was that he didn’t like my dog. Since the dog is now living with my Grandmother, we don’t fight about that anymore. I still can’t help thinking I could never spend my life with someone who doesn’t like animals.
—Anonymous, Single, Female, San Francisco, CA, USA
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