Not Guilty

Last night, I dreamt that my bed was resting on a huge cement slab out in the open. There were no walls or ceiling to shield my most comfy of places from weather and unwelcomed guests. The air was chilly and moist, so I curled up in my bed and pulled the down comforter up to my chin and lay there letting the minutes pass into hours gazing at the clouds that raced in the cerculean blue sky. I was very calm and content, until I heard someone shouting my name from a distance. At first the voice sounded as if it was coming from a stranger, but then I recognized it. I tried to hide my head under my blanket, unfortunately it was too late: one of my ex-boyfriends was standing by my bed panting, smiling and pulling his long-sleeve shirt off.

"Whoa! Whoa! WHOA!" I exclaimed as my eyebrows knitted together in angry frightened exasperation. "What are you doing?"

He kept smiling and happily said, "It is ME!"

Grumbling, "Yeah, I know who you are. You should put your shirt back on."

As I spoke, he had already made it to the other side of the bed, lifted the covers and slipped in.

I shouted, "Get out of my bed! I didn't invite you!"

He looked around still dumbly smiling and reasoned, "Invited? It looks pretty open to me... Besides, I'm cold and I have something to tell you."

"I can't talk to you like this! You are invading my privacy!"

Suddenly, walls sprung up, a ceiling formed and my bedroom door slammed shut. I started panting like a trapped animal furiously questioning why my safe place had turned into a traumatic one. I was so angry with my smiling intruder for taking something pleasant and calm and turning it into a nightmare. Then all of the sudden the nightmare got worse. We heard a knock on the door and my roommate's voice rang from the other side, "Paloma? Can I talk to you?" Without allowing me to respond, she had already turned the knob and was staring at me with the door halfway open. That look she gave me was unforgettable. It was the look of judgement: condemnation. She looked at my Ex and then at me and shook her head. My face went red with anger and I tried to explain what was happening as she shook her head and responded with a curt growl, "It is none of my business." She bowed her head down and closed the door behind her. She was extremely angry and disappointed, but not nearly as much as I was. I was not guilty, evenso I knew the merciless jury had spoken. It was a "Hung" jury.

I woke up this morning grateful that what I had experienced was a nightmare. Nevertheless, I have had this weird feeling all morning. This feeling is best explained as mock frustration over being judged wrongly. In real life and even in my dream life I set very high standards for my morality. I have been thinking how awful it would be if people didn't trust me when I am being so trustworthy.