I woke up this morning and cried.. I hate those kinds of dreams. Here we go:
I, for some reason, was battling the baby-boomers and my brothers were killed. Sam was buried underneath the bleachers. The bleachers were facing the stage where one of the youths was announcing our victory over the baby-boomers. I went under the bleachers were my friend Ericka was observing the stone grave (I haven't seen or talked to Ericka in well over two years, and we were only surface friends). It was a circle of stones and a small headstone with his name on it (it was comparable to the grave we made for our dog that died when we were younger). She told me she was sorry... I stared at the grave in disbelief that my brother was gone. The next scene I remember was me running across a darkened street with a gun in my hand, and I was apparently going to the restaurant that my other brother works at currently. But I was going there to reassure myself that he, too, was dead. He died in some battle as well.
I woke up and told Joey that I had a terrible dream.. that my brothers both died in this weird battle. The tears just came... it wasn't a sobbing cry, but tears ran down my cheeks for a couple seconds. I could not imagine losing one of my brothers anytime soon. I guess this could be the analysis that I'm afraid of losing everyone important to me. After losing my mom as abruptly as I did, I'm just afraid it will happen to the ones I care about. I would lose my mind.
