What I expect to be a dream turns out to be a nightmare. Just because something is clearer doesn't mean the view is any better, or the transparency of the outcome more palatable.
I am sitting on Jeremy's lap in the driver's seat of my car again, the night that Seth and his entourage cornered us. It's pitch black save for the distant city lights; silent when ignoring the rush of the river, the whispering of the wind, and the ruckus of the rain. I fear I am going to get that dream again where Jeremy proposed to me several times, each proposal met with an instinctive no. The fear of an even worse dream does not occur to me.
The ring is on my finger, two golden orbs of hot brightness flashing in the rearview mirror. I register the moment I have plopped into and even in my dream the sense o
