The dream unfolded in two parts, split by a midnight bathroom break – both hazy and full of feeling. I remembered it not as an experience, but like notes from an old journal – missing the details but loaded with echoes.
Amber mentioned a bus stop – 43rd Street. I knew it from childhood, where my mom used to take me home. There was a church there, though in real life, it’s all slightly off: the street, the placement, the reality. None of that mattered in the dream. The air was humid, nighttime, filled with headlights and a constant sense of movement. Amber was younger, glowing.
Then, Laura appeared. We were in a night market – hands clasped, mouths meeting between food stalls, the taste of mango and daring on our lips. She wore a white pantsuit, her hair cascading to her waist. She laughed easily. She was magnetic, radiant. We made out against alley walls, broke the rules of modesty, then laughed like kids when we came to our senses. Until I disappeared, and she came out of the washroom alone. The dream’s camera zoomed out – her lost in a crowd, becoming smaller and smaller.
Back at my parents’ house – Amber and I lived in the basement. We argued. I heard her mutter something, and then my father appeared beside me in his underwear, holding a giant steel sword like something out of Destiny 2. My heart sank. He told us to move out. My mom shouted, wordlessly but powerfully. We packed in silence. I thought of Benny – maybe he’d take us in. I hated the thought, but had no better options.
Then my mom picked up a pink bag with two wine bottles. She asked, “This is good wine, right?” And before I could understand the shift, she said in Cantonese, “Stay. I’m sorry.” Everything froze. I wanted to hug my dad. I dropped everything. I was stunned.
Then Laura returned. She tried to pull me away. Amber stared from the reflection – silent disapproval in her eyes. I felt torn. This was never her path, not really.
Suddenly I was walking alone through a summer street. I wore a kimono jacket. My arms inked in tattoos. Earrings. People noticed. I passed sidewalk ramen shops. A man in white shorts stared at me. I didn’t return the gaze. I thought only of Amber and Laura.
Then night again – back at the market. I found Laura. She hadn’t seen me yet. She wore turquoise. We reunited with a kiss that said everything and nothing. I whispered desire. She hesitated. Her body leaned in, but she said no. I didn’t protest. I just kissed her cheek and took her hand. We walked. Sometimes she squeezed tighter. Sometimes she watched me from the side. Her eyes knew what mine refused to admit – frustration, longing, restraint.
The last scene: a fenced garden, vines climbing wet dark wood. Salmon-pink petals. A female voice reciting verses I can’t remember now – something about love, life, friendship, and truth. As my gaze followed the vines, memories came in fragments:
Amber and I planting seeds. Laura playing badminton. The three of us in bed. Cookies in the oven. Lips on lips. Sunshine and shadow.
At the end of the vine, I told myself, “Remember these six verses. Bring them with you to the waking world.”
But I didn’t.
This dream is a tapestry of your subconscious, weaving together threads of past relationships, familial dynamics, and personal anxieties.
Amber and the 43rd Street Bus Stop: Amber’s need to navigate the 43rd Street bus stop—a place tied to your childhood—suggests a blending of your past and present. Buses in dreams often symbolize life’s journey and the paths we take. This intersection might represent a point where your past experiences influence your current relationship, hinting at unresolved issues or lessons yet to be learned.
Revisiting a pseudo-intimate friendship with Laura at a night market, filled with affection and spontaneity, could signify a longing for past connections or the carefree nature of youthful relationships. The night market setting—a place bustling with life and sensory experiences—might reflect a desire for excitement or a break from routine.
Leaving Laura abruptly and finding yourself back at your parents’ place, facing conflict and the threat of eviction, points to feelings of instability or fear of rejection. Your father’s presence with a sword and your mother’s aggressive demeanor could symbolize authoritative pressures or unresolved familial tensions. Packing hastily with Amber, considering temporary refuge, reflects anxiety about security and the need to make swift decisions under pressure.
Your mother’s unexpected interest in the wine amidst the chaos introduces an element of unpredictability. It could symbolize moments of tenderness or normalcy in strained relationships, or perhaps the confusing mix of support and criticism you’ve experienced.
Bottom line? You’re trying to balance love, freedom, and stability while dealing with forces—both internal and external—that make you feel like you’re always one step away from losing control.