Dream of: 23 June 1986 "No Character"

I encountered Bonnie one night at a banquet. I could tell she had been drinking alcohol profusely. After I sat down next to her at a banquet table, we started kissing and she told me she wanted to marry me again. I wanted to be with her, but I did not quite know what to think of the idea of our being married again. I did not reject the idea, however, and indeed thought we probably would marry again.

I saw someone and told Bonnie I had to go somewhere for a few minutes and would be right back. The person I had seen was Mike Grierson (a Portsmouth acquaintance). I pulled him over to the side and told him I wanted to talk with him. He took me into a tiny office where there were three lawyers. He said we could talk there, and Bonnie would not be able to hear us.

I asked Mike if he had ever gone out with Bonnie. For some reason I thought he had. He told me he had gone out with her some time in December of last year. I tried to remember what month it presently was and realized December had only been a few months earlier. Mike said he had only been out with Bonnie that one time.

I asked him how he had met Bonnie. He said any time he went to a party he would simply ask where she was. He then gave a name which Bonnie was apparently presently using which he would ask for. He said if she were at the party she would always be surrounded by a bunch of men. Apparently, men were always after her and gathered around her.

I told him she wanted to marry me again and I felt rather self-important because of that. The other lawyers (one was a woman) in the room also knew Bonnie. The woman lawyer looked incredulous at the idea of our marrying again. I was bragging somewhat about the fact, but I had already decided I was not going to remarry Bonnie.

I walked back out to where Bonnie was. She was pouring red liquid from a pitcher into her glass. I thought it might be Kool aid, but I knew it was probably wine. She was obviously intoxicated. No men were around her right now, although she was indeed quite attractive.

I walked over to her, got her, and walked away from the table with her. I told her she was going to have to do something: from this moment forward, from that last drink she had just had, she was going to have to stop drinking alcohol forever. She looked astonished. I could tell she knew she was an alcoholic (and I knew she was an alcoholic) but she was not ready to stop drinking. I knew drinking was a serious problem for her. Even if we never married, she needed to stop drinking alcohol.

I broke the news to her that we were not going to marry. She took it rather calmly, but then she started retaliating against me and burst out, "Steve you have no character, control, or conviction."

She continued criticizing me; I began to become very angry although I knew I should try to control my anger. She was such an immature person, helping her mature into a responsible woman was almost hopeless. Nevertheless, I still cared very much for her. That paradox was really the basis of my anger. She was such an immature child, yet I still could not help having deep feelings for her.

As we walked along, I raised my hand up to her neck and with my thumb and middle finger squeezed the back of her neck very hard trying to hurt her. She said, "Ah, that feels good."

I wanted to point out to her that although she was criticizing me so much, nevertheless she was still with me even though she could obviously have a lot of other different men.

I told her we were going to my house, and she could still spend the night with me. She said she would, but I knew I was not going to have sex with her. She knew it also. We still felt we could spend the night with each other; obviously, however, having sex would be a major mistake.

Suddenly, I realized I was dreaming. I found myself walking alone down the street. I saw some houses and some dogs lying in front of one house. I began looking for my tape recorder because I wanted to record the dream. I thought I had left it in front of one of the houses, lying close to the front door, but I looked and could not seem to find it. I did find a radio. Finally, I found my recorder. I began looking for the cord so I could hook it up and record my dream.

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