POSSESSION by SARAH McLACHLAN. Dream by PJ Grollet.

Fresno, California

Tuesday, September 29, 2020

Laura’s notebook

In the dream, I walked through a banquet hall when I realized I was at my high school reunion.

Laura was there too and I struggled to maintain my composure when she walked into the room. Throughout the entire evening I tried to get close, but I didn’t speak to her until the very end.

When we finally spoke, I told her everything—especially how much I’ve missed her.

“You really loved me, didn’t you?” Laura asked.

“Loved you?” I asked. “I still do.”

As the event was concluding, Laura said she had to go; she had plans to meet up with her boyfriend afterwards.

I was crushed to hear that she was involved with someone, yet I was still hopeful that somehow, we would be together again; it still felt like our story had more pages to be written.

The Sarah McLachlan song—our song—then started to play over the speakers as Laura handed me a light blue notebook which she said was filled with her dreams and writings.

“Keep my notebook in your car,” Laura said before leaving to say goodbye to her friends at the party.

The dream then suddenly shifted and we were no longer at the banquet hall, we were now at my house.

As Laura continued to say goodbye to her friends in the other room, I thought more about her gift, the blue notebook, and I considered placing it in a closet in my home. It seemed more secure inside the closet than keeping the notebook in my car.

The memory then came to me of when Laura and I first broke up. I never apologized to her for acting so foolishly and I wanted to do so now before she left the event.

After Laura said her goodbyes she walked back over, and I told her my thoughts about placing her notebook in the closet of my home, but she was adamant that I keep the notebook in my car.

Laura then told me more about the gift.

Despite its appearance as a modern-day hardcover journal, she described it as though it were a recently discovered manuscript from the Middle Ages copied in the hand of Boccaccio himself.

Laura continued to express to me the value of the book and while she never mentioned an actual monetary amount, she hinted that its worth was beyond belief.

By then I was totally bewildered and the image of her notebook as a priceless manuscript for some future civilization struck me once more and I said, “It will take a thousand years to reach that value! I won’t have to wait a thousand years to see you again, will I?”

Laura didn’t answer. She then got in her car, drove off and I forgot to apologize to her.

Again.

Stereo Story #742