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A Cheap Shot or, Sweet Dreams Aren't Made of This - The Annals of Young Geoffrey: Hope brings a turtle [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
Young Geoffrey

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A Cheap Shot or, Sweet Dreams Aren't Made of This [Feb. 26th, 2006|08:31 pm]
Young Geoffrey
Laura rolled in late so late Friday night* it was well-into Friday morning; she'd gone out with a man I had considered my friend, the notorious sck.

"I won't be too late," she told me, as I lay in my sickbed, already in the narcotic delirium of my painkillers. I mumbled my goodbyes and returned to my restless slumber, waking twice or thrice and vaguelly wondering what was keeping my sweetie.

I awoke at around 7:00 to an empty bed.

"Tha hell...?" I sat up and ignored my aching head and arid mouth. Listened for a moment - only the cats, prowling outside our door in their morning's expectation of food - and rolled to my feet. Maybe she's at the computer.

I opened the door and stepped into our vestibule. All was silent but for the mewling of the cats at my feet.

"Laura?"

There was no answer. I strode through the apartment to my office. The computer was untouched, Laura's clothes were nowhere to be seen.

I picked up the telephone. A steady dial-tone indicated she had not called. Worry warred with jealousy as I dialed the voicemail, just in case.

No message.

At that moment, I heard a key turn in the lock of our front door. I slammed the phone into the charger, heart suddenly pounding inside me as if it were struggling to escape the confines of my chest.

I started for the door and reached it as it swung open and Laura crossed our threshold.

She looked scared when she saw my face. She looked guilty.

"Where the fuck have you been?"

"I was -"

But I was in a fury. I had no interest in her excuses or lies. I grabbed her by the arms and shook her. Her head clunked against the door and I raised my hand and slapped her across the face.

Her eyes teared and she pushed me away from her. I stumbled through the open bathroom door facing the entrance of our apartment and landed on my ass.

"How dare you!" Laura snarled. She kicked at my leg and just missed a solid blow to my shin. "How fucking dare you?"

"What?" I shouted, still in high dudgeon, despite my position on the steps into the bathroom. "Where the hell were you?"

"I was at SCK's!" she shouted. "Where did you think I was?"

"And what were you doing there until 7:00 in the morning?"

She snarled, "We were playing video games!"

"Oh god," I said, "Laura, I'm so sorry ..."

"Fuck you and your jealousy," she said with a brutal chill. She turned towards the front door. "I'm going out," she said. "I'll come to pick up my things on Monday, when you're at work."

And she was gone, out of my apartment and out of my life, forever.

* * *


And then, thank god, I woke up. It was still dark, not yet two in the morning. I lay back for a long while, forcing my heart to slow, telling myself over and over and over, "It was only a dream, it was only a dream ..."

* * *


I've long thought I am a poor candidate for dream analysis. My dreams tend to be either non-sensical adventures, straightforward eroticism, occsionally humour or - very occsionally, as in this one - cautionary tales.

It certainly doesn't require Sigmund Freud to tell me this dream was a warning dished up by my subconscious with a very clear message: Don't let your jealousy get the better of you. Laura loves you, now just fucking relax for chrissake.

I got out of bed and had a cigarette to calm my jitters and when, not very much later, Laura did turn the lock, I greeted her with open arms and smothered her with grateful kisses.



Okay, okay: this actually happened a week ago Friday; I was remiss in posting about it.
linkReply

Comments:
From: bug2099
2006-02-27 04:09 am (UTC)
my my my... you do know how to build suspense my friend.

You had me for a minute there...

Glad all is well..
how is the eye?
(Reply) (Thread)
From: 10021
2006-02-27 12:20 pm (UTC)
The universe has given you a pretty clear message, bub. Pay attention!
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[User Picture]From: subsequently
2006-02-28 01:26 pm (UTC)
hello from a virtual stranger ...

even if you were suffering from some degree of paranoia about losing the Lovely Laura earlier on, i think the experience of having some thug bash your face in is enough to make anyone feel shaky. about everything. you sounded pretty good in your writing about the ordeal, the hospitalization afterward - but it is a bit like having the rug pulled out from you and wondering, afterward, if the floor is going to really be there when you stand up.

and i know she's younger, and i know, from experience, how hard it can be to quell worry when you love each other but are in different stages of life. which doesn't mean that it won't work, Bogie. I don't think Lauren has any regrets :)

Cheers. Be good to yourself.
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: ed_rex
2006-03-01 02:34 am (UTC)

Thanks ...

... I'll do my best on being good to myself.

I hadn't thought about the dream having a connection to the attack, until you suggested it. I still don't think it did, except insofar as I was still recovering from surgery and so feeling both physically and emotionally fragile. For the first week or so after getting out of the hospital, I slept a hell of a lot and felt, emotionally, very much as I do when I quit smoking: touchy, self-pitying and prone to worrying a great deal about very little.

Perhaps I protest too much, but I really don't see any indication of long-term trauma from the attack itself. I've been back to the bar at which it happened with very little trepidation and I'm not jumping at shadows. Mind you, we'll see how I react the next time someone takes a poke at me ...

And hello yourself, virtual stranger.
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From: vernski
2006-03-01 01:12 am (UTC)
Wow, that's funny. Steve made me promise not to say anything, and then you seemed to know, and then it was just a dream.

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[User Picture]From: ed_rex
2006-03-01 02:36 am (UTC)

I Dream of Vernski

Yer a sensitive, sensitive man, you are.

By the way, the next time I see you I want you to give me detailed instructions for cooking steak; I seem to have lost the knack.
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
From: (Anonymous)
2006-03-01 10:24 pm (UTC)

Re: I Dream of Vernski

> By the way, the next time I see you I want you to give me detailed
> instructions for cooking steak; I seem to have lost the knack.

No paink..., I mean problem, no problem. Next time you get a steak just give me a call and I'll come over and show you. I'm always happy to visit your paink..., I mean you.
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: ed_rex
2006-03-02 12:05 am (UTC)

Re: I Dream of Vernski

Well, I see someone took one too many trips to rain barrel.
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[User Picture]From: offermeescape
2006-03-05 06:00 am (UTC)
Once again you've managed to have me on the edge of my seat, waiting, waiting and waiting for the conclusion ... and then.. it was just a dream. Damn you, Geoffrey.
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From: lykshweetdood
2006-03-06 11:57 pm (UTC)
I was srsly just like.. LKNAGLKNASGLKNAGLKNALGKNALGNL.

Dun dun dun dun!!!
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