February 14; 10AM

The dreams I have been having the past week are very hazy. Maybe it's anxiety. I've had one recurring theme in about four of my dreams which does not appear frequently for me: flying.

This morning, I was flying over a highway. Trying desperately to win the affections of my stepmother, it was of dire importance that I get to the service on time. I knew that this ability was extraordinary and that I would lose the power to fly once the spark of ambition either blew out or the mission was accomplished. The journey from my car to the church was arduous; flying over mountains, rivers, various lands, and overcoming battles with other flying creatures. Once I made it there, I immediately found a seat while the choir was singing a solemn gospel piece. I looked around at all the people and wondered why they chose to find solace in god, this god, and why I am not able to. I wondered why there needed to be a dark and light. I wanted to fly again. Suddenly, this bitterness bubbled up inside me. It was an enmity that felt like shackles around my wrists and send venom through my veins. The anger paralyzed me. Just then, my stepmom came up to me and she was radiating with happiness, wearing a yellow-striped dress. All of the rage within me halted as she came up to hug me. When she pulled away I looked down at her dress. She was covered in a thick, rich maroon liquid. Blood. Perhaps it was my blood? When she stepped back, I mentioned the chaos on her yellow garment and she looked at herself in horror, then raised her eyes to me and ran off. My shoulders slumped, I exhaled, I felt defeated. I looked down at my shirt and there was not a trace of blood.