43rd Street Bus Loop

The dream had split up into two continuing parts. Unfortunately, I don’t remember the bulk of it. As I woke up, it was still fresh in my memory, as if I was remembering something I read in a journal I had from a long time ago, but somehow, the journal only recorded point-form notes, rather than the details. The two continuing parts happened when I woke up in between to use the bathroom. Then I went back to bed and fell asleep pretty quickly.

The dream…

Amber opted to do something. She mentioned the 43rd Street bus stop. I remembered the 43rd Street bus stop from my childhood, when my mom had to take it to go home with me. There was a church in the north-eastern quadrant of that intersection. While my dream never made it clear that it was 43rd and Granville, in real life, 43rd Street is actually 43rd Avenue, but even then, the location of the church relative to the intersection is wrong. The church is on 49th Avenue and Granville Street.

Anyway, Amber had to go somewhere, but to go somewhere, she found out she had to take the bus from or to 43rd Avenue. I remarked in a slightly exaggerated way, that the church and that intersection is super busy. Lots of traffic from people and vehicles.

The ambience at that part of the dream was night time, a bit hazy, and felt busy, even though the focus was just Amber and I. Also, Amber is a year or two younger.

Somehow, Pascale and I were in a pseudo intimate friendship, like we similarly had from this period in our life. She even looked like she did back then. We were at a night market. It was night time. She vaguely wore a white pant suit business attire, but she also wore a white t-shirt under the jacket. Her hair was long to her waist. When she was with me, she was glowing. She was always smiling.

When we walked around the night market, we were either holding each others’ hands, or I had my arms around her waist, or she would have her hand on my the backside of my belt. We had a great time just trying to different night market foods, listening to the music playing, etc. There were times we made out randomly during our walk around. There were times where we went further than we should have out in public, but our passion overtook us. Then we would realize where we were, and stop, look at each other shyly with a grin, then continue our walk. That would happen a few more times that evening.

Somehow, I left her abruptly. In a sort of third-person camera perspective, Pascale looked momentarily lost as she came out of the washroom. She lost me, as the camera zoomed out slowly revealing the large moving crowd around her, until she became a speck and the scene switched to the next.

I was at home at my parents’ place. Except I lived in the basement with Amber. We had argued somehow. I was doing something on the computer and heard Amber said quietly, “Dad. something something.” That didn’t even click for me, until I saw my dad in his underwear standing next to me holding a steel sword that resembled the Honor Guard in Destiny 2. The sword was tucked under his arm, with the pointed-end upwards behind his shoulder. He mumbled that we need to move out. In that instance, my heart dropped, but I was externally calm. I asked, “What?” in Cantonese and he mumbled we need to pack and get out. This was solidified by my mom yelling in a non-verbal way, though somehow I had ‘heard’ her say it, that we need to get the fuck out.

So calmly, Amber and I packed our things. The entire time we were packing, I was shaking with worry and I hastily thought of places we could go. Benny came to mind. He had a big house. He could temporarily allow us to live in a room until we figure things out for just a day or three, but I didn’t want to. However, I knew I had to make the difficult decisions and reminded myself that beggars cannot be choosers.

As we were about half way through our packing, suddenly my mom appeared. I was already shakened, and expected her to hurry us by throwing our stuff out. However, she picked up a pink closed bag that had two bottles of sake or wine in it. She held it up a bit and stared at it in different angles. She remarked, “This is wine isn’t it? It’s good wine right?” I didn’t even think of it as being random, nor weird, as I was hastily trying to get out of her face, and responded, “Yes, it’s good.”

She put it neatly onto a nearby table next to some boxes we were packing. I thought she was toying with me in a sarcastic way. That she would suddenly pick it up and smash it, or say she would keep it as we leave. However, she suddenly said, “You can stay. I’m sorry. Just stay.” in Cantonese. I was shocked and surprised. So I dropped everything and for that moment, I wanted to hug my dad, because my dad clearly thought the whole thing was retarded, but he had to abide by my mom’s demands. I thought the sword was overkill though in and out of my dream.

Then somehow, Laura appeared and she tried to whisk me away from the scene. In a reflection, I saw Amber staring at us sideways. Her mouth was opened in a disapproving expression. I felt very uncomfortable, because I felt Amber was never ready for any of this, even if she said she was.

I was back near the night market, except it was late afternoon in the summer. I was in the city, walking amongst others, who did their own thing. I was wearing a Japanese kimono jacket. I had more tattoos on my arms. I had piercings in both my ears. I looked like a classy Yakuza or a classy Triad. People noticed me vaguely at first, but later, I took off my jacket and I was wearing a white tank top with tattoos all over me. Women were checking me out. Men were in awe. I felt both awkward and confident. On one hand, I didn’t want to show myself off. On the other hand, I wanted to be wanted. I passed by people eating ramen at tables outside a restaurant. A tall white guy in a white shirt, grey shorts, and dark blue sneakers was sitting and noticed me walked by. His blonde female friends also noticed, but he noticed me the most.

I did not look at anyone in particular, nor did I flirt with anyone. I only thought about Amber and Pascale.

Suddenly, I was back at the night market by myself at night. For a moment, as I walked away, I remembered where I was and who I was with. So I went back to look for Pascale and found her. She hadn’t seen me yet. I noticed the colour of her outfit had changed to a light turquoise. She was holding another suit in a bag. I quickly appeared in front of her and she reacted super happily. She said, “I thought you left!” I walked right up to her slowly, placed my hand on her face and kissed her lips deeply. She closed her eyes as we embraced like that for a few moments. I hinted to her we need to have sex. Her tone changed slightly. On one hand, her body leaned in close to me, but on the other hand, she told me she couldn’t. This internally angered me, because we have this obvious pseudo romantic intimate relationship, yet we can’t fully have penetrative sex?! It was frustrating and stressful. Externally, I didn’t want to make a scene, so I kissed her cheek, took her hand, and walked on. As we walked from place to place, Pascale would stare at me occasionally from the side, I would pretend not to notice, but there were a few times she would squeeze my hand tighter, which I would take notice and turn to her to smile. When our eyes met, she knew I was hurt, frustrated, stressed, and angry, even though I stayed calm, and tried my best not to ruin our moment.

Before my dream ended, I was in a narrow fenced garden. The wooden fences on either side were about six feet tall, dark brown of varying shades. They looked wet and the ambience was gloomy. It was cloudy. The garden was made up of vines. There was one very long somewhat thick series of vines that intertwined with each other. Narrow diamond shaped leaves wrapped around salmon pink petals with a yellow stigma. My eyes followed the vines downward. A female narrator spoke about something. It was important, but I don’t remember what it was right now. Every time my sight passed by a flower, another verse started. It had something to do with opportunity, life, love, passion, friendship, and reality. Maybe.

The focus was here, but there were flashes of memories that happened at the same time, in a vague sort of way. There was a part where I was on top of Pascale thrusting myself into her, our eyes locked with each other, panting slightly. Her knees were raised on either side of me. One of my hands were caressing her face. Occasionally we made out. Another part was Amber and I planting seeds in a garden. Amber looked over at me, with a sunny background, and smiled at me. I smiled back and we drank lemonade. There was another scene where Pascale and Amber were naked in bed with me. Pascale had her long black hair and Amber had her long blonde hair. We all made love together. Then there was another scene where Amber was baking cookies, and another scene where I watched Pascale play badminton. It went on and on.

Then I got to the last flower on the vine and I told myself, “I must remember these six verses. I must try to remember to bring it with me to the other world.”

Of course, I don’t remember those words. Though my student number from Cambie High School was 91006. I was student number 6, beginning in 1991. Of course, that’s most likely a coincidence.

So I woke up with these memories. Note that I don’t have these sort of feelings for Pascale in real life. I once did back in 2012 to 2013. Whatever lingering feelings are a special blend of friendship and lust motivated by what happened back then. Basically, I remember Pascale today, as the best version of her from 2012, but she is quite a different person today than she was nine years ago.

Anyway, I think what triggered this dream was what Pascale had asked of me a couple of nights ago in Whatsapp. She told me she had something important to share with me, and needed my opinion.

While I am 99.999% certain it’s coinciding something to do with her personal life, most likely something she mentioned about a year ago about her frozen embryos/eggs, there is also that 0.001% fantasy that it’s about her wanting to engage an intimate relationship with me. However, I have learned something over the last twenty one years since I met Virginia.

My chances for intimacy to happen in this regard with anyone has been taken away a long time ago. My spiritual guardian has done so perhaps to protect me, as she has always done so. I won’t get into this now. That’s a whole new can of worms.

So while I am nearly 100% sure it’s about her frozen embryo/eggs, there is always that tiny humanistic hopefulness that I hope it’s about us intimately. Honestly, I fucking hate that I have that hope, because even though right now, I say there is none, the reality is that there is always a chance given the right circumstances. Alas, those ‘right circumstances’ will never present themselves again, like they did in 2012.

Fuck it. Let it die!

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