I woke up in the middle of the night last night, absolutely sure that someone was in my room, walking off with my most precious belongings. I felt immediately stupid and vulnerable; in my dream, I’d brought this person home with me although I did not know him well, and had forgotten about him and fallen asleep, allowing him to stay. I sat straight up in bed, looked around wildly and said out loud, “Are you still here?!” The room was empty except for me and Valentine, who was curled up under my desk where she often naps.

My heart didn’t stop pounding for an hour, and it took me two or three hours to go back to sleep. My arm suddenly itched and I felt certain I had bedbugs. The dream quickly revealed its meaning, a fear of letting others know my most intimate self.


One Response to “XLIX.”

  1. How does blogging fit with this? Are we the man or the cat?

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