Rooted, I used to think.

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Monday, Oct. 18, 2021 @ 3:04 pm

I have a dream in which I am sitting next to his new girlfriend. I like her. We are chatting. I ask her how they are as a couple, if he is being nice to her. She hesitates to answer. Her hesitation is a crack in her laissez-faire persona. I see it, so obviously, the truth.

As I wait for her to respond, I see him walking towards us. The moment he recognizes me, I see tension and panic move across his face. I know that he doesn’t want me talking with her.

A few paces later, and he is standing in front of us. He speaks to me. I respond. He speaks again, and it’s one of the same circular arguments where he is right and I am wrong. I look over at her, her soft face and doe eyes.

“See? Is this how he speaks to you?”

She is silent.

“If you are waiting for him to change, you should know that he won’t. I’ve known him for a long, long time. He will never change. You will never be good enough for him.”

I wake up from the dream shaky and disoriented.

The scene in the dream was so, so real. The wind catching pieces of her chestnut hair, and the dry leaves beneath our feet. His body posture, tense and guarded. The set of his jaw.

I’d imagined that over time my feelings about him would soften. If anything, the feelings have hardened, understanding now what it means to be accepted and loved without condition.

How long will he continue to haunt me?

Roots | Shoots