The managing partner, lets call him "Tagge," liked my ex-wife. Now don't get any ideas, he didn't like her in that way. Let's just say they liked each others' company--probably from their similar backgrounds and conservative views on life. Both came from farming backgrounds. Both were into traditional American values, apple pie, Republican politics etc. Of course, my ex-wife did and probably still does have the ability to get along with just about anyone. She would have been a great politician. She would have been the best politician's wife or first lady had she found the right guy.
In short, my ex-wife deserved better than me. Maybe not at first. At first, I was a good little associate at the most prominent law-firm in town. I had a future, I guess. I coulda been a contenda, ya know. I fit the model. I probably still do to some extent. But for the pesky second law of Thermodynamics. The one that talks about entropy. There has been a lot of entropy between me and that young attorney. In any event, the blessing of my marriage to both me and my former wife has been my daughters. I only wish I could have given her more blessings which she deserved.
With this background, I think my dream last night makes a great deal of sense. My ex-wife and I were in Tagge's house. Not literally, mind you. I don't think I have ever been in Tagge's house. The house was more like the larger version of the house I grew up in in Collins Heights in Gillette, Wyoming. We were in the first floor which contained a kitchen and a patio. We were there without Tagge's permission. Tagge and his wife were out. We were alone in the house and I knew we shouldn't be there and I wanted to leave. My ex-wife insisted on staying. I have no idea why. Its not like we were doing anything in the house. We weren't eating any food or raiding the wine celler. In fact I seriously doubt if Tagge even liked wine. All I remember is that Tagge had a bunch of outdated DVDs next to his TV that I remember looking at.
We stayed at Tagge's house much too long. Probably until the morning. I remember we had to leave abruptly and we left though the back door. My car was out front parked in Tagge's driveway. Its not like we could conceal anything. Tagge had some expensive car parked next to mine. Like a Rolls Royce or a Bentley. As we pulled away in a hurry from the driveway, Tagge came out of his house wearing boxer shorts--presumably to get a newspaper. He was not upset when he saw us.
When I woke up from this dream, I was distressed. Though the dream should not have upset me, it did. It had the same effect on me as if I woke up from a scary nightmare. But it was not a scary monster that upset me, it was likely the pain of me hurting my ex-wife, of not providing her with Tagge's house, literally or figuratively, which she never wanted to leave.
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