Tequila Dreams

For myself:

(I suspect this would bore anyone else.)

It was like one of the old nights, but also like no night we ever had. Time did that thing where it folds in on itself. We were young, but also somehow post divorce.

We went to a house show at a large loft in downtown Dallas to see the fictional band from Under The Silver Lake – myself and the usual crew. Matt was making questionable decisions. Gwen’s were even worse. Collin and I were in that state of perpetual limbo that we existed in for two years. Jamie was hung up on him. Mindy was, as always, the voice of reason and my steady space. Her sister was somewhere on the periphery.

Collin and I shared a cigarette. He was always cynical, but this was different, like he finally gave into it. Hardened. But we talked things out, and made plans to go home together.

There was an ocean. There was a sea salt breeze in the night air.

Interlude – a shopping mall, abandoned like Valley View. Something about haunted dolls, but not scary. A large hall filled with rows and rows of empty bookcases. For a brief moment I might have had a child?

Collin drove us all home in the old Audi. We dropped everyone off and then we went to bed. His birthday was the next day, meaning mine had taken place just three days prior. We only celebrated together when things were good, so things must have been good.

And then I woke.

I could never fully enjoy ‘good’ with him. His mood would change, inevitably. Like the direction of the wind. He was never cruel to me (only himself), but I  could never feel wholly settled – his mercurial temperament ensured it.

I don’t really feel anything when I dream about him anymore, besides maybe a sense of nostalgia, and a little guilty that there is a part of me (though subconscious) that is still clinging to him after 20 years.

I wish the cast of characters in my dreams would update.