your lack of desire to mature. Too many responsibilities are weighing you down.

I quit.

I don't see how any of this forms a coherent story. I want to think it does, that I'm just trying to run from the truth, but I literally can't see how this stuff relates to what the dream was actually about!

I head back to the bedroom, shoving the book back onto the shelf as I pass. What a waste of time. That book’s not worth the paper it's printed on.

But...

Damn it all!

As I wander toward my bed, more symbols bombard me, begging to be looked up and overthought. I won't let them.

But as I lay awake and gently weave my arms around Monique, I can't stop thinking about them.

Dress.

Cherry Tree.

Hill.

Sunset.

...

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