Another night of nightmares. Another night waking up at 3:00 and 5:00. I'm starting to think there's some significance to those times.
I can't remember the first set of nightmares now, but I remember the second set - they were like montages that never found resolution, so much like my life right now.
I dreamt that OW's sister died and that somehow I found out about it. I decided to attend the wake, which strangely enough was being held at that little b****'s house. I was the first person to arrive, and I introduced myself calmly, classily. She was so plain and pathetic. She actually looked like a 21 year old, like someone who still hadn't completely left behind high school. Nothing special at all.
It was my plan to simply observe, to be there when my H showed up to terrify him. But in the dream, I simply couldn't do it. I asked her how she liked f***ing my sloppy seconds. She had this moment where shock and horror flashed across her face, but then she smiled and said she loved it. I grabbed her by the throat and began slapping her, and then my H walked in. The most frustrating thing about the dream was no matter what I did - what I said, how hard I was slapping her, what I said to my H - I could not affect them. I could not hurt them.
Then the scene changed. I found myself in front of my H's place. I was visiting him for some reason, and when I walked in, I remember being disgusted by the banality of the place. In my dream, I was trying to DB, but I was so sickened by his stupid furniture and his stupid little house that I just lost my cool. I started overturning furniture, breaking things. I started slapping him as hard as I could, but somehow it was never hard enough. I was never able to actually hurt him.
And there were other, similar vignettes. Riding in his truck and slapping him. Entering her restaurant and slapping her. And it never made a difference. It was always like I was hitting air, like I could never get contact, like I could not be satisfied.
I am sick of his ghost. I am sick of him sucking the marrow from my celebrations, from my sleep.
I'm late to work today. I'm still not sober enough to go in, so I'm trying to wake up enough to drag myself to the shower and into my car. Thankfully, my boss was there last night and was just as drunk as everyone else. Thankfully, he still being really cool, but I know that very soon I'll begin to find myself on thin ice, so I have to pick myself up and begin to truly tackle my job, my life.
I'm still wallowing in many ways, and it makes me so angry at myself and at circumstances.
I'm still not sure how to respond to his email. I just cannot believe that he is trying to play this game with me. Why push me to a fight?
Maybe I should change the medium and text him back.
Or maybe I should just match the tone of the email.
Or perhaps I should call so that there is no paper trail.
I don't know what to do. What I want to do is write the following:
"Good morning, Mr. Formality (haha),
Thank you for the head's up about the insurance. I will call and take care of the payment. As for Protect America, that bill has already been paid, as has the mortgage and all other due bills. I appreciate your concern, and I appreciate your willingness to work around my busy schedule. We will talk in the future.
