04/04/2000

Dream: Sex Kittens

-I have a rabbit and a cat in separate cages in my room. I decide to let them out
-I’m afraid the rabbit will scratch and bite, but to my great surprise—it doesn’t
-I decide to risk taking the kitten in the other cage out so I can bring both animals upstairs at once
-I’m afraid the two will fight, but they have no conflict with each other
-there is an overwhelming approval surrounding these animals’ release, and I am glad
-these animals are intelligent beings with individual personalities
-soon enough, I notice that we have another cat, but I’m not sure where the rabbit is
-when I look for it I find that the rabbit, who had certainly not wanted to offend but happened to prefer its cage, had returned there
-the animals must be hungry, so I feed the black and white cat a carrot, which it eats cautiously, not seeming to enjoy
-I realise, Oh yes! That’s right—cats prefer meat to carrots. Although… that rabbit might like a carrot
-sure enough, I have another cat on my hands, so I make up three plates of roast—yes, the good stuff—for my kittens and they are not disinterested

04/03/2000

Lawrence has scheduled an appointment after school with a therapist—Dr. Sherbourne. It’s been months that I’ve hoped he would seek help for his depression, but now that he’s taking steps, I suddenly have an ominous feeling. He’s heading into the experience with a sour opinion of therapists.

It seems I wasn’t so far off when I presumed his marriage was in trouble long before I came along. He and Victoria sought marital counselling before we met, with “the best marriage counsellor in the city,” according to someone—I don’t know who.

As far as Lawrence was concerned, that therapist sided with Victoria all the way. His primary concern was the total absence of intimacy. The counsellor told him that if he had too much sexual energy, he should take up bowling.

HA!

Giselle

03/14/2000

Dream: Death of a Bitter Man

-started out at grandma’s place. We asked if we could sleep over, but we had to go home because we knew dad was planning to break into our house
-dark outside
-I went downstairs to my room and started packing a few things to take to grandma’s
-went upstairs as mum was coming down, and she said that dad had been here
-I asked, “Is he dead?”
-no reply
-I continued, “How did he die, mum? Tell me what happened. Did you kill him?”
-she said no, and that he came into her room “like usual” wearing some type of cologne, white something, and she pushed him and he landed on some metal thing with a pointed edge and died
-I didn’t really believe her story, but had no way of verifying because I never viewed the body
-I wanted to do the autopsy, but had no training
-mum left the house and came back with a neighbour. They both went upstairs to take a look at the body. I noticed Leslie coloring with markers and thought, since I wasn’t sad or mourning, I should do some painting later (as a form of self-expression)
-when the neighbour left I asked mum if we were going to grandma’s house now. She said yes, but she didn’t have my bag, so I went to quickly finish packing

03/03/2000

Accusations are incriminations. You’re guilty until proven innocent.

Giselle

03/02/2000

I don’t get it!

Not even close.

What the fuck was that, Lawrence?

How could you have done it?

And not told me!

I’m not even sure whether I’m more angry that you did it in the first place, or that you completely neglected to tell me about it.

Do you know how stupid you made me look? Patrick is one of my best friends. I’ve known him since he was eight years old. I know his sister! I know his parents! And you had to go report him and George to the principal? You are such a hypocrite, Lawrence. I’m not even joking.

It’s because they’re gay, isn’t it? I mean, George isn’t even a teacher. He’s a volunteer! And not a skeevy old man, like some people—he only graduated two years ago. And here you go acting like he’s some kind of sexual predator just because you saw them doing whatever. How is their sex life any of your business? Patrick’s a smart guy. He can make his own decisions.

And did you really think you could tell on another “teacher” without your virtue being called into question? It doesn’t even matter that we’ve never done anything wrong. People see the way I look at you, and see the way you look at me, and they draw their own conclusions.

I don’t get it. It doesn’t make any sense. People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, Lawrence. And without telling me! How do you think I felt when Christie told me she’d heard it from Ms. Pape? The fact that you filed a report against George made it all the way to London before it got back to me. Doesn’t that seem really messed up to you?

Or did you just not tell me because you knew I’d think it was a stupid idea? If you thought I’d try to talk you out of it, well, you’d have been right, my friend.

You’d better hope you make it out of this ordeal without losing your job, your wife, and your life.

Giselle

02/28/2000

Dream: I Specifically Ordered the Non-Lucid Dream

-at a choir concert, but it’s only me, Patrick, and that girl with the red hair who was in love with David Duchovny. We were singing a song none of us knew, except at certain parts. Patrick didn’t want to stand between us because “Who wants to stand between two sirens?”
-I woke up (still in the dream) and it was 4:53. I thought, “I should make dinner, but I still want to sleep.” I could hear my uncle cutting the lawn and when I went out there he thought my dream journal was a camera
-I asked if the lawnmower was ours and he said, “Yes, it’s yours. Are you okay?”
-when I said, “I’m fine,” the man was now dad, and he left. That’s when I figured this had to be a dream
-Jane came up the hill with a white cat and I thought, “In these dreams, there is always the contrast of black and white”
-The cat was very sweet. She touched my face with her almost-human paw, but then brought out her claws. I removed her paw from my skin and said, “You’re going to hurt me.” She said sorry, that was not her intention, it was just a reflex. Then she did it again
-I grabbed her paw and didn’t let go, even though she was genuinely sorry

02/27/2000

Well, everybody else seems to perceive a problem, so I guess I had better address it before it gets the best of me. What am I looking for in my current relationship? LOVE! (and company, tenderness and sympathy…)

I think I’ve got that already—feel, rather. Having trouble feeling these days. I should do a tarot reading for this one.

At the end of each day, the question remains: why am I emotionally involved with Lawrence?

I Love him. Why is that never a good enough answer? It’s the essential factor in any relationship. And what is he, really, for me? A man with whom I am in Love. Why is everybody scaring me away from something I was so sure I wanted?

When I told Aunt Bay how I felt about him, she said she almost threw up. I despise other people’s capacities to make me insecure.

I so wish I could discuss this with Lawrence. That whole morality clause of his is so inconvenient. Bad enough that he won’t engage with me, physically, beyond a few hugs here and there, but he won’t even discuss the possibility while I’m still a student. He won’t even talk about it, talk about US. He must know by know how much I Love him, but he won’t return the sentiment.

What kind of relationship is this, anyway?

Giselle

02/23/2000

Dream: Shattered

-I’m at school, in the space outside the front office
-Christie is there and she’s wearing a white dress. When she sees me, she walks over to me like her body is possessed
-when she gets to where I’m standing, she passes out and collapses into my arms. I figure I can support her weight until I’m actually holding her, and then I struggle
-her body is revived, but consumed by rage. She grabs me by the neck, although I can’t feel her hands there. She’s pushing me backward through the hall, screaming, “Why did you come with me? It was for him, wasn’t it?”
-“No Christie! I Love you!” I yell, noticing at this point that other students are jumping on her back, trying to keep me out of harm’s way as much as possible
-Christie’s face is so contorted that I’m convinced she’s saying “I’m gonna kill you!” even though I don’t hear any words
-we make it all the way to the school library, which is full of greenery and natural light, before another friend tackles me and we fight. I yell something, then apologise to the students who are trying to read while we battle it out
-I check the Secret Garden CD in my backpack, and it’s broken into small pieces

02/22/2000

I’m back. I have cried my fearful tears, but now I have returned to my natural state.

Oh, Christie! When I finally admitted to you just how badly I want to get my hands on Lawrence, your reaction seemed so defensive that I constructed some temporary walls—more of a cubicle, because at least I could see my way out.

Defensive, and accusatory, too. I felt as though you’d reached a conclusion on my behalf out of your own insecurities. I think I was especially offended by your insinuation that a relationship I value more than anything is fraudulent. Just the idea of not being in Love with him—especially when I have thought of nothing but him for the past few weeks—infuriates me.

I can remember saying to myself, “Will you please find something else to think about?” I’ve been daydreaming so much that I feel obsessive. His energy is present in my dreams and with me when I wake up in the morning and I could enjoy nothing more.

I feel that you took my thought to an extreme, and you made me feel cornered, just like when Ms. Pape would psychoanalyze me and her conclusions didn’t feel right, but I would accept them without question. I valued her insights, as I value yours.

But you’re wrong this time, Christie. That tryst, or whatever you’d call what happened between us, was one time, one night. Anyway, you’re the one who said we couldn’t keep “doing that.” I respected your wishes because I respect you as a person. I respect you as a friend.

I can say with great certainty that men much more effectively excite my imagination and sexual interests than women. Women are beautiful, yes, but to quote Ally McBeal after she kissed Ling: “There’s something missing: a penis.”

What I feel for him is different. All Lawrence has to do is touch the small of my back and it sends me. It throws me. It drives me. Literally, he takes my breath away.

Giselle

02/20/2000

Dream: Resolution

-I am asleep on the floor in my room
-as I wake up, I realise there is a black cat near me. I also realise that Christie is outside my room
-I figure the cat is a hallucination and when I let Christie in, the cat will disappear, however the cat doesn’t disappear, and so I pick her up
-she is very tame, but not without personality, and she has been declawed. She also has a collar around her neck, which is red

The seductions have been so subtle as to go unnoticed.

Giselle

02/10/2000

Profile:

What can be said of Victoria? Blue. The first time I met her, I saw blue in her aura and all around her.

Why does she always seem so happy? Why does she seem so unaware? So unsuspecting?

Tired.

She seems to keep an abundance of energy in her outermost layer, but beneath that layer is an inextinguishable exhaustion. She can’t sleep it off; it goes deeper than that.

She’s dissatisfied with something. If it’s her marriage, maybe I’m doing her a favour.

Constance.

Does she realize the world changes every second? I really can’t tell.

She’s very small. We’re the same height. Just a physical property, though. I really don’t feel that she sees me as a threat; she would have looked at me differently if that had been the case.

I know that look. I’ve received it from countless wives. It’s that jealous look that says, “Don’t you even think about it!” I don’t get that from Victoria.

Of all people, right?

I was never a threat to Chester’s wife—he was incredibly unwilling—and yet that was the look with which I was always greeted. I guess I was just hoping to make an enemy.

You know, it’s not the sex that bothers most women whose significant others have been seeing someone else—it’s the knowledge that he has shared something more than his body, which is often the case, with another woman. I have heard of women weeping over their husbands’ platonic affairs.

This is really beginning to feel like an affair. It’s just a matter of waiting for the act. The waiting place. I’ll be here for another couple of months, at least. I now know what it’s like to be a man—that complete preoccupation with sex.

It’s quite an experience, actually. The physical intimacy isn’t there. Sometimes it’s all I need, but the effort seems futile and I must admit to being afraid of the rejection. More often than not, though, I expect that he anticipates that I will make the first move. It’s always me. I must always be the one to place his hands where I most want them.

I get cold feet.

If only he were more physically assertive with me.

Pull up a chair…

Giselle

01/17/2000

Lawrence,

We haven’t spoken since before Christmas, and I wanted to acknowledge that fact. I imagine you’ve stayed away because you are (as I am) trying to enter the new millennium on a virtuous note. I understand how difficult it is to feel virtuous when you have me in your sights, because I feel the same lack of decency when we are together. But that doesn’t mean we should turn our backs on each other.

How are you?

Have you started seeing a counselor yet? I am very concerned about you. Every time I see you in the hall, you look like you’re falling apart.

I want you to know that I am always here for you. You are alienating people who care about you, alienating me, but I won’t give up on you. Ever.

There are a lot of things we can’t be right now, but I don’t feel that you’re in any position to turn away someone who wants to be your friend. It’s not like you’ve got terribly many.

I’m offering my unconditional Love and support because I care about you and I’m very worried. From what I’ve observed, it seems that your depression has consumed you; it’s taken over your entire body. Don’t let it take your heart, Lawrence.

Let me help!!!

Giselle

01/07/2000

Dream: Driving Mr. Renarde

-I’m driving a car from the passenger side, but there’s a steering wheel there
-dad is teaching me
-I’m not very good because I’m too lazy to signal or slow down to turn or anything
-it’s night time and planets like Jupiter and Saturn look so close and absolutely beautiful. Something explodes in the sky and it looks like a star. It happens again and I observe more closely, but this time it’s just a firecracker
-the first time it hadn’t been firecrackers; it had been planets exploding. I’m sure of it

01/01/2000

I am now ready to forgive myself.

I forgive myself for believing that my personal wants could win out over what the Universe is prepared to give me.

I forgive myself for being angry.

I forgive myself for being bitter.

I forgive myself for wanting more than is meant for me.

I forgive myself for being impatient.

I forgive myself for not trusting.

I forgive myself for hurting other people, and for wanting to hurt them.

I forgive myself for not knowing what to do.

I forgive myself for pushing people away.

I forgive myself for not wanting to grow.

I forgive myself for being stagnant.

I forgive myself for my misconceptions.

I forgive myself for complaining.

The Universe is taking care of me and for this I am so grateful.

My new mantra shall be Om Namah Shivaya.

Giselle

12/31/1999

Dream: Death Threats from Grade Fours

-at a big school and all my elementary friends are there
-there are signs all over the place that read “We hate Giselle Renarde” and “We’re Gonna Kill You, Giselle” and so on. I laugh nervously every time someone points out another one
-I conclude that this is bound to happen when a person lives up to their full potential, and think of Nelson Mandela
-my friends and I move forward, despite the signs, until we discover that this whole thing has to do with Grade 4 students at my elementary school. We are donating money to them, but the kids still hate me

12/27/1999

Dream: The Pleasant Drug Dealer

-Leslie and I are walking home late at night
-a drug dealer comes into the house and starts hiding drugs all over
-Leslie is too scared to tell him he has the wrong house, so when he asks for his payment, I say very pleasantly, “You seem to have the wrong house. We didn’t order any drugs. The delivery isn’t meant for us.”
-“Oh,” he says. “I’m so sorry to have troubled you.” He takes some salmon out of the freezer and leaves

Watched “Stepmom” with my cousin. Big issues with that movie. Guilty, guilty, guilty conscience.

I’ve been having trouble digesting “other woman” movies lately. “Stepmom” isn’t even one, really, but it felt that way to me. Reminded me of Kennedy. Made me wonder about Victoria.

I do wonder about that woman, often.

The experts on Cityline say that any sort of affair (platonic included) indicates a troubled marriage.

What was Lawrence implying when he said home-wrecking “would require some longer-term goals”? Are you so confident that your trembling-on-the-brink-of-disastrous marriage can survive me in the short term?

I think I’m still trying to decide how destructive I am. It seems a shame to destroy such innocence in a man—it isn’t worth the conquest—and yet… I don’t know. If he weren’t so indecisive he could make up my mind for me.

Giselle

12/25/1999

Lawrence,

Give yourself to me.

I feel the guilt of the unsuspecting, even in my inaction.

Yet I pine still for warm flesh.

My experience winds itself unbounded but I have lost the scent of foreign paths.

Giselle

12/13/1999

Dream: There’s Evil In Me

-I’m walking in the back hall at school and pass by Ms. Finch and Mr.Dupont. I turn around, realizing I’ve forgotten something
-Ms. Finch is wearing a beautiful yellow sweater and she thanks me for all the help. She has been so nice to me, so I give her a hug
-Mr. Dupont is looking straight at me and I notice his eyes are brilliantly blue
-he asks, “Why is it that I don’t know much about you?”
-I ask him if he wants to learn, or something like that
-“You’re just so evil,” he says
-I sort of laugh and argue at the same time, and I don’t mind yelling at him at all because I know it had to be done. I know how hard I’m trying to get out of that old habit

That lower-chakra energy flow wouldn’t go away at all, today. How inconvenient!

Giselle

12/10/1999

Ha! Wow! I know I haven’t written anything in a long time, but school has been all work and no play. But today was a great day!

Fun stuff first:

Lawrence hands me a set of beeswax candles: “A pre-Christmas present.”

Hi! Thanks! Yum!

“And, if you’re not busy during your fifth period spare, would you care to join me for a coffee?”

Hello! Yes! Of course!

Not so fun stuff:

When Lawrence and I headed to his car after fourth period, we weren’t the only ones in the parking lot. Mr. Dupont was out there, too, and he walked over as Lawrence turned the key in the ignition. He tapped on the window, and when Lawrence rolled it down, he asked, “Do you have written permission to escort a student off school premises?”

Lawrence sort of laughed in a way that I knew he felt awkward and ashamed. He said, “Uhh… no…”

Mr. Dupont didn’t let up. He said something about how teachers needed parental permission to take students off school grounds because the board of education could be sued if anything happened to me. But how stupid is that? It’s not like I’m a child. I’m a legal adult. Maybe Mr. Dupont didn’t know I’m eighteen. I don’t need parental permission to do anything.

I don’t remember what Lawrence said after that. My head started throbbing and I honestly thought I was going to cry. It was so humiliating.

But somehow the issue was resolved. I think Lawrence basically just said, “Thanks for the heads-up” or something like that, and drove away with me in the passenger seat. We didn’t talk about it at all. Far too embarrassing. What a blow to our egos. Thanks a lot, Mr. Dupont.

Better stuff:

As Lawrence parked on one of the side streets around Hazelton Lanes, I was applying Cinnamon Sugar Lipsmackers. I asked him if he wanted some (just being polite; expected him to say no) and he said sure! We browsed for a while at L’Atelier Grigorian, and after that went to buy the coffee he’d promised me. When the coffee woman asked, if he wanted cinnamon on his Café-au-Lait, he responded, “Please! It’ll match my lipstick.”

How amused was I?

Alright, so now for the good stuff that has Giselle on an enormous power-trip:

He thanked me for giving him the rest of my half (the smaller one, at that) of the almond croissant we shared. My response was, “You paid for it. [nota bene: I never offer to pay for anything.] It can get expensive to keep a mistress.”

Oh, he came this close to spitting out his coffee, but then he laughed: “I’m not sure we’re quite there.”

I know—I’m sure—that he did not say “yet,” but I distinctly heard it anyway, almost as though it had been implied.

At any rate, he followed that up by saying, “Yes, I can see how it could. I once knew a man who was revered because he could go to dinner parties with his wife on one arm and his mistress on the other.”

“Well, isn’t that ideal?” I asked.

I don’t think he even realized that he said, “Yeah.”

To follow were a couple more stories about mistresses. Hey—that was easy.

This stuff’s even better, though:

We were in the car and I inquired as to whether or not he would lie about his whereabouts when he got home.

“No, I don’t have to lie,” said he.

(Damn, thought I.)

He then inquired as to whether or not I had to lie.

Umm, hi, YES! What do you think?

“Oh, well that makes me [him] a bit uncomfortable. (I wish you didn’t have to, etc.)”

That makes him uncomfortable? HA!

“So, then, your wife really doesn’t mind that you’re out with a beautiful woman?”

Oh, that deserved at least a giggle, but instead yielded: “Well, I don’t think she really knows… but I don’t think she doesn’t not know.”

(?)

“What does that mean?” (I honestly didn’t get it.)

“It means that if she knew, she’d mind.”

“Good then, (oops—I said that out loud, didn’t I?) that’s all I need to know.”

I had such a great time. When we walked into Hazelton Lanes, a string quartet was performing right there in the atrium. This man has been treating me like a goddess. I’m not even joking. It’s because I ignored him for a month, I suspect.

Throughout November, I didn’t care to make time for him, and he didn’t really have time for me. Result? Separation anxiety! My God, he is absolutely worshipping the ground I walk on! This is amazing! Even in our little café, when I was seated upon my cushiony bench thing and leaning against the wall, I felt like an odalisque being admired.

He kept asking me about music and art, saying, “Oh, I don’t know anything [and you know all—share with me your abundant knowledge, Oh Goddess Giselle! (I am not worthy)].”

So, you can see why this might have me on a bit of a power trip. Yes, I’ve called myself on it, but I really don’t care.

It’s incredible to look at how this relationship has evolved. We [I] have introduced a new element: sexual tension. Oh, it only happens once in a while. I wonder if it’s something that he is aware of. I really think it is. Today, I touched his arm—immediate lower-chakra energy-flow!

Oh no! Fight it! Divert eyes! Breathe!

Giselle

11/01/1999

Dream: Mad Man in the Garage

-Leslie, Jane and I were on a walk with mum and Mr. Dupont, who were a couple. We got home to find dad in our garage. He had bought a brand new car, but a very old make or model
-Dad tried to be nice at first, but he had torn apart most of the garage, including the door and mum’s van
-I asked Mr. Dupont for help, so he came over. Mum and Jane didn’t seem to be around. I felt like no one was taking action except me

10/29/1999

Oh dear. I dressed up as Raggedy Ann for Halloween, in a short little polka-dot number. Ms. Finch outdid me, and everyone else, by wearing a skin-tight Starfleet uniform. Incredibly sexy. Turned every head in the school.

When I asked Lawrence what he thought of her costume, I figured he would rant about it being unprofessional for a teacher to dress like a Starfleet slut. But that’s not what he said at all.

He told me that a couple years ago some of the teachers had a book club. They held it after hours, either at someone’s house or at a restaurant. All the English teachers were part of it, but it was open to every department, and Ms. Finch was an active member.

One month, when they were reading Fall On Your Knees, everybody dropped out, or said they couldn’t come or hadn’t read the book, etc. It was down to the two of them, Lawrence and Ms. Finch, and they knew if they didn’t cancel, that would have some deeper meaning. And did they cancel?

No.

“We knew what it meant.” That’s what he said. “We didn’t acknowledge it, but we both knew it was a date.”

I couldn’t breathe. I asked him, “Did you kiss? Did something happen? Did you cheat on Victoria?”

I’d asked him that question before. He’d always told me no. And this time he gave me the same answer, but I’m not sure I believed him. He was basically admitting that he’d felt desire for Ms. Finch. He wanted her.

“Would you have slept with her?” I asked. “If she wanted to?”

He didn’t confirm that he would have. He didn’t deny it, either.

That whole conversation made me feel dizzy. He’d betrayed me. He didn’t think so, since this happened years before we met, but he’d always given me the impression that he’d never looked at another woman until I came along. Now I find out that he went on a date, of sorts, with Ms. Finch?

And it doesn’t even matter if she didn’t see it as a date. I hold no grudges against her. Perhaps, in her mind, it was just another book club meeting. I’ll never know what was going on in her mind, and it really doesn’t matter to me whether or not she was a party to Victoria’s deception. I’m hardly one to judge.

It troubles me, right to my core, that Lawrence looked at her the way he looks at me. And he never told me about all this. He made me think I was the only one.

And I believed him.

Giselle

10/27/1999

Dream: Corpse

-I wake up in my room to see Leslie’s dead body at my window. I am devastated
-Leslie enters my room in the same attire as her corpse and I am so glad that her death was a mere trick my eyes were playing on me
-I look back at the window to see that Leslie’s dead form is still there. I look back at Leslie, who asks me, “Have you seen my body?”
-I point to the window and she returns to it

What a tease! How dare he show me such tenderness? How dare he share with me the warmth that no one else has ever allowed me, when every night he goes home to his wife? Does he show her the same affection? Assumedly so, although I don’t feel that to be true.

I want his company in every mundane activity. Could I live with him? Could I bear it? I feel that there is someone “out there” for me to meet right now. I must find him!

Love,
Giselle

10/24/1999

Dream: La Visite

-Christie and Lawrence and I have to find our way out of the school, which is a labyrinth. We’re being chased by “bad guys” and we all get separated
-I find my way out through a science lab window, and as I leave the school I meet up with Christie, whom I’m very glad and relieved to see. She hugs me and points me in Lawrence’s direction
-when I meet up with him, he asks if I want to come home with him and stay over. His house looks more like Aunt Bay’s
-we must be tired, because we both collapse onto the couch and watch TV. I hold on to his arm and then fall into a light sleep as he holds me
-I awaken when my family shows up at the door. Leslie told mum where I was and they all came over. Victoria and mum get along grandly
-Leslie and I go to the basement for green Jell-O, and we’re amazed that mum and Victoria can hear everything we say, no matter how softly we speak. Leslie asks where she can get a father like Lawrence, and I tell her, “You can have him.”
-Victoria responds in kind
-we make our way back to the couch and Lawrence gets up from a nap. There’s something about his groggy state that scares me and reminds me of my father
-Lawrence comes to lie down so I can hold him, and I’m terribly frightened that he’s going to smell like alcohol, but he doesn’t. He is pure. He goes back to sleep in my arms

10/18/1999

Dream

Chester beats up dad.

You know, I always figured I would make a better mistress than a wife, but I’m not sure that’s true anymore; I always seem to want to do wife-ish things: take a walk, take a nap, talk, hug…

In fact, I would be a perfectly horrible mistress. I’m less intimidating that way, though.

Today felt like one of those very mundane dreams I don’t even bother writing down. I’m almost afraid to say this, in case I end up contradicting myself, but I am increasingly assured that this relationship is indeed intended to be platonic. “Platonic” just feels right.

I Love his warmth, though. I want to sleep with him. Not have sex, just sleep. Just feel his arms around me, feel the warmth of his body next to mine, feel him kiss the nape of my neck, because I know he would, and tenderly, too. I think the tenderness could very well be the key.

What can this be called?

How odd this relationship must appear to anyone on the outside. I never forget that he has a wife and children and familial responsibilities… but where do I come in? What happens when I want more?

I always want more, and always receive it, eventually. He did say, again, that there isn’t anything I could ask of him that he wouldn’t do. What exactly does that mean? How far does it extend?

Does it include taking naps?

Giselle

10/16/1999

Dream: Finding the Proper Place

-Chester is at my school! He is given a room; perhaps he is teaching here for the day. I hope to meet up with him at some point
-I am in English class, which is interrupted when another teacher wishes to speak with Lawrence
-I am now in my bedroom, which is part of the school, and mum delivers to me an aesthetically pleasing stack of papers from Chester, which are intended to be used as stationary
-Lawrence is washing the floor with great care. This is more important to him than teaching a class, which makes my mother angry, and she tells him so. Leslie feels the same way, and it breaks my heart when she gives him a piece of her mind as well
-I tell him that I don’t agree with my mother and my sister
-I have trouble finding the proper place to be, and I keep moving around until I am seated near Lawrence, in the right place

10/15/1999

Truth will haunt you until the day you die, at which point it will embody you.

So… why keep fighting against yourself?

Giselle

10/03/1999

Dream: Home Invasion

-Leslie went into the house of some soccer friend, and I followed her. The owners were not home, but I realized that the house was on Chester’s street
-I opened the front door and caught sight of Chester’s house just as he, his wife, and daughter, were walking out. We waved at each other and I heard Leslie scream from inside
-something was wrong, and I called Chester over; he motioned that he would be there in a second, not seeming to realise the severity of the situation
-there was an intruder with a knife in the house and I discovered this just as Chester was arriving
-I took charge, but no one was paying much attention to me, so I called 911 and explained the situation very calmly
-the operator didn’t seem to care. Chester remained around the house, but he seemed unconcerned as well. He seemed to want to let me deal with the situation before he would become involved
-the emergency task force consisted of a little Chinese girl and her younger brother. She seemed convinced that the suspect should be spoken to in Chinese, though he didn’t understand the language

10/02/1999

Chester was a soccer dad. His daughter played on Leslie’s team.

Whenever I went to Leslie’s games, I would chat with Chester. He seemed to take very little interest in the other parents, who were immature and gossipy. Sad that a 15-year-old girl could provide more intelligent conversation than so many adults in their forties, but such was the case.

I always enjoyed Chester’s company, but I didn’t let him get too close at first—trust issues, you know. We discussed books and movies, musicals, theatre. He and his family travelled a lot. They’d seen Starlight Express in London’s West End, and more than once.

As time went by, I noticed that Chester was a man. How did I treat men? Not very well. (Now, that’s an understatement!) When I put on my evil-seductress disguise for him, his reaction blew me away. He didn’t fall for it, not for a moment. The sense I got from him was more of an amused, “Dear child, what are you playing at?”

I felt sort of silly after that, and realised how much wiser Chester was than I. He didn’t allow my awkward insecurity to affect him. He rose above all that. Inspirational!

By the way, Chester is an intelligent, physically-fit, middle-aged man. He’s also a high school English teacher. So perhaps I shouldn’t have been so surprised that, after meeting Lawrence, Leslie said to me, “He looks just like Chester.”

My reaction? “Don’t say that…”

Giselle

10/01/1999

Dream: UTOPIA

-Leslie and I are out in the backyard
-I am delighted to find out that Chester lives in the house behind us. He and his daughter are in the backyard and he eagerly jumps over the fence when he sees me
-I greet him by giving him a hug, getting as close as I possibly can
-to my surprise, he takes control, lays me down on the ground, and kisses me very tenderly on the lips
-my initial reaction is to get away from Leslie and Chester’s daughter, but Chester doesn’t seem to have anything to hide from the girls
-we go inside the house and he makes it very clear that he wants me
-Great! This is perfect! I get exactly who and what I want and I don’t have to do any work for it!
-I lead him upstairs and my mother is there. She seems absolutely ecstatic for me and feeds me half a twenty dollar bill as birth control