Last night I had a dream I was in France with Jan. It was a kind of vacation. We were getting along okay, and sitting together. But then we were also fighting. It was a group trip, and at a certain moment I was shouting at him in front of other people. I felt he deserved it, but he was angry. There was a bus, and drinks, and a balloon. I got the wrong balloon-- I got a children's balloon.
I'm anxious and stressy because my new way of breaking off contact with P. actually seems to be working. For the first time in days I haven't heard a word from him. It's the right thing, but dreams are addictive too. I miss having his little messages to look forward to. I miss speaking to him about everything and nothing. I don't miss the stress of being angry because he wouldn't be in touch on the weekend, however. I don't miss that.
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