The Dream

Never, in my short life, have I ever been happier than I was two months ago.  I was freshly in love, for the first time and luckily enough someone loved me back.  And never have I been more distraught than in the past two weeks, when that love was crushed and rejected.

This sets the stage for what I'm about to say.  See, in my last relationship, my boyfriend bought me a lot of things.  It started early and escalated.  I've never had anyone shower me with gifts as much as he did.  Every time I turn around, I see something he gave me and I smile, remembering with bittersweet emotion the events surrounding each gift.

When I mentioned that I was cold all the time because our house heaters were broken, he bought me a thermal blanket.  When I nearly froze to death on our walks around the lake, he got me a jacket rated down to 0 degrees.  When I complained about the bad quality of the cheap speakers I bought for my Zune, he brought me a docking station.  And in the end, when I complained that he had broken my coffee grinder, he placed a much better one on my doorstep, even though we'd already broken up.

But lately, I've been having a recurring dream.  It haunts my sleep by night and plagues my thoughts by day.

In it, I gather up all the things he bought me.  The blanket first, on the bottom.  Then the jacket.  The plaid peacoat from my birthday next.  The two box sets of Ender books  from Christmas.  The coffee grinder.  The docking station.  The pi poster in my classroom.  All the little things, too.  They all go together.

And once I've gathered them all up, I go and knock on his door.  He opens it amid the rain that falls around us, though we aren't getting wet.  The rain that matches the tears running down my cheeks.  I shove the gifts into his arms.

He protests, of course, reiterating what he said when we broke up.  I had asked him if he wanted those things back, or if he wanted some kind of refund for all the money he wasted on me.  "No," he said then and still says now, "It was worth it."

But I don't believe him and I force the items toward him.  "No!  Take them!"  I shout.  "You can have them."  By this time my lips are trembling and I can barely speak.  "Please," I beg shamelessly now.  "I'll do anything.  Just please... give me my heart back?"