Dreamt of a Bad Breakup

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Dreamt a guy had taken me to a small restaurant, four small tables on either side of the dining room and two tables in the center.  The walls were covered in grey silk, bracketed dark gray metal was lowered from the ceiling with muted beige large round pendant lights.  My date was waiting for me at the center front table in a nice suit, the maitre’d took my overcoat and tote bag after a difficult day at work, I walked over to the table and sat down. The wine steward poured us two glasses of white wine.

The guy gave a sultry smile, leaned over towards me.

“Brick, I’m breaking up with you. It’s not me, it’s you. You’re not exciting enough to be seen with me.”

In the dream, I sat there open mouthed, my heart stuttered. He put his large hands on the table and started to rise.

I thought, oh hell no! He’s not going to be the one to walk out of here first, with his head held high! What could i do?  Who had my back?


I put my own hands on the table, and started to rise on my own, singing.

“There’s a boy!” He slowly sat back down, looking at the other men surrounding us. The looks of such pity for him gave me strength. I leaned over the table with the fine white china, expensive tablecloth, cloth napkins, modern silverware and half full wine glasses.

“I know,” I picked up my wine glass, “he’s the one I dream of” I downed the wine. I walked around the left side of the table.

“Looks into” I put my hand on his shoulder, squatting, leaning into him, “My eyes,” then I rise, holding his head to my chest, “Takes me to the clouds above, mmm-hmm” I grab his wine glass and throw it down. The wine steward refills both wine glasses half-full again.

I walk around his right side, sliding my hand up his arm, “Oh I lose” I’m behind him now, his shoulders and back are tight with stress, “control,” I pop a squat down, sliding my hands down his arms, my face against the right side of his face, then run my hands back up to his shoulders, switching my face to the left side of his face, squatting down again with my hands running down his chest to his abdomen, “Cant seem to get enough, uh-huh”  I down his second glass of wine.

When I stand back up from the squat, I pivot so I’m sitting on his lap. “When I wake” I lean back and kick my legs out and laugh. “From dreaming,” I sit up suddenly, lean into him fast and hard, while my hands run up his arms so the chair kicks over, the people in the table behind us catch his chair so it doesn’t fall. My hands are around his throat, “tell me is it really love” I stand up, walk around the table and down my second glass of wine.

“OOOoooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” I walk down the right side of tables, running my hands over the shoulders of the men on that side, “how will I know”, the men look sympathetic to me, “don’t trust your feelings” they sing to me.

“How will I know” I grab the last guy’s bearded jaw, he shrugs.

I move to the left side of the room, running my fingertips across the women’s shoulders, “How will I know”, the women sing “love can be deceiving”, I stop at the last woman, my finger under her chin, I gently pull her face towards me, “How will I know” she shrugs.

I stand and see the maitre’d holding my overcoat, I walk towards him, holding my jacket with my fingertips to slip the overcoat on, “How will I know if he really loves me” He pops the coat over my shoulders, “I say a prayer with every heartbeat.” I turn to him slightly, running my right hand over his jaw, “I fall in love with every heartbeat”

I turn to face him fully and punch my fingers in his chest, “I’m asking you what you know about these things” He stand there and pats my back.  “How will I know if he’s thinking of me” I sing into the room. I then look right at my ex, he’s looking at the table, holding a full glass of wine. “I try to phone,” I cover my eyes with my hands, “but I’m too shy” the men sing “can’t speak”

I walk away from the maitre’d to the front of the tables, “Falling in love is so,” I wait a few seconds, then sing “bittersweet”. I throw my arms apart to mean the whole room, “This love is strong, why do I feel weak?” I walk back to the entrance, where the maitre’d has my tote bag, I throw it over my shoulder.

“Oh wake me,” I sing with a waver in my voice and hold out my trembling hands so the room can see, “I’m shaking”, looking back to my now ex-boyfriend, “wish I had you near me now, uh-huh”. I point both fingers at the ex again, “Said there’s no mistaking,” I walk backwards towards the door, “what I feel is really love”

I turn around and walk out the door.


By Brick ONeil

Author, Researcher, Writer: . Called 'a prolific writer' since 2001, work includes Blogging, Copywriting, Spreadsheets, Research, Proposals, Articles in the fields of real estate, dating, health, fitness, disease, disability, technology and food.

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