Becoming Stephanie

I woke up this morning with the lingering distaste of something that was told to me, hence I wrote the previous blog last night.

I must have had a very restless night and I woke up remembering another strange dream.
I have had several in the past week.
While in Las Vegas last week, I had one of the most vivid dreams of my life. It was so real I can still remember it. When Matt and his girlfriend got back to the room, I told him the following story:

I was watching TV in the room and all of a sudden walking towards me from in front of the Television was a little girl. She came and sat on the bed with me and I touched her and told her I was so surprised because I was sure that she must have been a dream and now I was touching a real girl. It was very comforting to not be alone in the hotel room and I was happy to have her with me.
I was touching her hair and talking to her.
The next thing I know is the door opened quite loudly and I was alone and awake.

I started to tell Matt about this and even he said it seemed strange that I was having a dream and talking about dreaming in it.
Whatever it was, either my imagination or someone in the spirit world visiting me I of course will never know, but I still feel the lingering presence of a very sweet little girl.

Maybe that little girl was the sweet girl I used to adore in Marisa. I treated her with so much love and kindness always. Even when I knew how much she was changing I tried to be kind to her. That didn't mean I agreed with her, but I simply allowed her to reveal her true self and saw less and less of her.
Perhaps I was missing those long lost wonderful days, filled with love and hope for the future. Maybe I was missing the sweet and kind child that has turned into a rather cold woman in so many ways so much like her father with a propensity for the same addictive relief.
They both love the Trancs to calm them down. She likes the Xanax and he loved the Valium. The only exception is that she isn't aware of the path she is on, no matter how I tried to tell her years ago to be careful of that. The apple does not fall far from the tree as they say.

Last night I dreamt of romance. That is certainly out of the question for me who seems to be at the top of her jaded ways. But there it was, in living color another bad boy, much like Bob.

Imagine dreaming of a handsome man with an edge, Sober no less in AA. I have vowed to myself I will never ever get involved with another alcoholic. There is just too much of a gamble to ever go there again.
How could I be dreaming of being attracted to someone with the same addiction issues. Am I just missing Bob? Who knows? It wasn't his face up there on a movie screen of my dreams.

That is enough to have me running to a shrink. What is it about me that would be so attracted to another problem relationship. That is the exact reason I refuse to date.
The fear of another terrible outcome just for the momentary pleasure of being in love or lust, who knows. I only know one thing for sure, If I like a man, he is going to be trouble. That is my type. Trouble with a capital T.

I look around and I have yet to see happiness in couples who are together. The initial joy is never sustained. Young or old, it always ends up the same.
I am convinced most people stay in a relationship because they need the company or they do not want the stigma of being alone.

I never feel alone and I certainly don't fear it. I think I am blessed by always having been a loner. My entire life I would rather sit in my room alone as a young girl even, listening to my music or simply being alone with my thoughts.
Sometimes I think it is because I did not grow up with my natural parents and though I was loved and adored, it was different. I child feels the difference to the core of their soul. I just didn't have a strong bond like I have with my son. I was always treated like the honored guest I think.

The pain of the last few years of my marriage were enough of a cure for me. Being Alone seemed like the prize not the punishment to me.
So today I would rather focus on the past good times in the end, when Bob had his girlfriend to take it out on and not me.

Which brings me to this point in the subject matter.

Why do people always hurt the ones they love? Is it because they think they won't loose them? Do they think it is part of the "relationship" I have no idea.
I do know that I never got along better with Bob than when I was not living with him and we were in the process of getting the divorce.
Our friendship was stronger than ever, we actually enjoyed our brief time together when we did manage to have dinner or see a movie. All of his demons were no longer my problem and I only saw the good side of him. I now had the luxury of removing myself from his presence if things got ugly. He would simply have to go home to his condo alone or he could go to the house he shared with Linda.
I felt sorry for them both. They had each found themselves in the other, it was a hell of a price to pay for romance.