Dream of: 03 December 1990 "A Way Out"
I arrived at a house where Birdie was living. After being let in, I walked into a room where Birdie was lying in bed, and I got in bed with her. I told her that I had finally returned to her, that I had been with another woman for a long time, but now after years and years I had returned. We put our arms around each other and she held me.
It seemed strange I had returned to Birdie – was I making a mistake? I reflected that by telling her I was going to stay with her, I was probably meaning I intended to marry her. I worried I was making a mistake. It seemed as if I had just finished one marriage or relationship, and now here I was getting into another one.
When she held me close to her, I could tell she wanted to have sex, but I really didn't want to have sex with her right then.
When I rose and walked into the living room, she followed me, sat down with me on a couch, and pulled out some pictures to show me. One picture appeared to be of my father and a woman getting married, but I couldn't tell for sure if the man in the picture was my father. I noticed the date of the picture as being two years earlier. I kept looking and looking at the woman, but couldn't tell who she was. Finally I couldn't even distinguish my father's image. When I saw a name on the picture – Leroy D. Collier – I said, "That explains it cause his name is Leroy L. Collier. Actually no, his name was Herston Leroy Collier."
Birdie said the name was similar to my name – Steven L. Collier.
I began wondering if Birdie's daughter would be there. I couldn't remember her name, even though I knew I was supposed to be her father. I kept trying to remember her name, but I couldn't. I noticed a girl (about 6 years old) coming down some stairs in the room. When she walked into the room, I was surprised to see she was black. Her kinky, black hair had been cut short and put in little curls. I said, "Who is this?"
Birdie was evasive. She answered something, but she didn't tell me the girl's name. I suddenly realized the girl was Brandi, but that she wasn't my daughter. After so many years of thinking she had been my daughter, it was now clear to me that she wasn't.
The girl sat down and began talking vulgarly about something. She said something about "pubic hairs."
I realized all these years Birdie had led me to believe that Brandi was my daughter, but that she really wasn't. I recalled Birdie had associated with some black people. Obviously she had gotten pregnant by a black man. I thought, "This could be a way out of getting married to her and getting away from her."
I could explain that I had thought Brandi was my daughter, but now that I knew she wasn't, I had an excuse for leaving Birdie. That much was at least a relief.
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