Allothogenic Love

In the dream, I didn’t go over to Ceresa’s to make trouble. She’s my friend, and we were talking. It’s one of those scenes, though, that does not unfold like scenes do in fiction or plays. Things just happen, and then you’re left wondering how they happened. It’s closer to accounts of lost time than to situational drama. At least, that’s what it’s like for me.

It goes like this:

We’re on the couch, talking about kids. She and Leo just adopted a girl who’s about eight years old, which is right between my kids in age. And while excited about it, she also seems, I dunno … disconnected from the experience of parenting. It makes some sense, since she’s just getting started; and, because of the adoption, they’re jumping in at age eight and not pregnancy.

Anyway, we’re on the couch—like I said—talking about that, then we’re kissing. I can’t explain it. I don’t know how we got there, but there we are. It’s very comfortable and easy, like it has been a few times in my life. But it’s still got its odd moments, like she puts her foot near my mouth, and it’s obvious she wants me to kiss it. She hasn’t been wearing shoes, so it’s kind of dirty. So instead of sucking on her toe, I kind of briefly take it into my mouth, then kiss the top of her foot.

She guides me up to her face, and we look at each other. I love her, deeply, yet it isn’t that kind of impatient impossible love that demands you consume and be consumed. It’s like we are: friends who love each other.

Ceresa wants to make love, and I’m responding to that when it occurs to me that Leo should be home soon.

I ask about that, and she says, “He might be, yeah.”

That breaks the bubble for me, and I sit up and sweep my hair back.

Leo does come home, like pretty much right then.

My mind is racing, trying to figure out how all this is going to work as I take the stairs up to their bedroom to get dressed, hoping I’ve made it up there before he caught sight of me.

I can hear him talking to Ceresa downstairs in an angry voice. He’s not scary, not exactly. He’s short for one thing, which I know doesn’t really have anything to do with someone’s actual menace, but it suits him. Like, he’s not going to do anything. I’m not worried about my safety or hers. It’s more the awkwardness of the situation. I don’t love Leo like I do Ceresa, but neither do I have any wish to tear this dude’s life down or even hurt his feelings.

Once dressed, I come back downstairs.

Leo’s voice changes immediately and is now at a normal level. I can even tell he’s trying to sound pleasant when he says, “Hey, Tee. How’s it going?”

I smile at him gently, and try to be kind when I say, “I’m okay, Leo.”

He looks younger than I remember, though he’s still probably thirty-something. He has short hair and a neatly trimmed goatee. Kind of a stocky dude, but slim for one; and, as I said, short, maybe 5’2” or 5’3”.

Ceresa seems fine, like not worried or distressed at all, even though he was quite loud less than a literal minute ago.

I recall some of what he said. Like, it hit me almost like a delay. I was so focused on getting dressed and processing my own feelings. He’d said something like, “You are mine, and I am yours, Cee. We have a life together. You can’t run off with Tracy and throw all that away.” Something like that.

Another bit of lost time, and I am back on the couch.

Leo hands me a book that’s about conflict resolution in couples. He gives me another thing, like a pamphlet, that’s about mediation. I glance over them with a bit of interest, but I’m familiar with this sort of shit, so it’s not news to me.

Ceresa is trying to talk with him, but he seems focused on the idea that we should be doing some kind of structured intervention, like what’s described in the literature he handed me. I overhear that he’s willing to discuss a partially open relationship or a polyamory kind of thing, and I’m sitting there wondering how the fuck I got here.

It’s not that I don’t love Cee. I do. But I’m not exactly ready to turn my world over to … I don’t even know what. We don’t live on the same planet. We don’t have any intersections, really, beyond our affection for each other and devotion to our friendship.

Soon Leo has talked us both into going on. How? I dunno.

I’m driving one of the cars, and Ceresa is driving the other, which I don’t love. We’re communicating through the vidscreens, which helps, but I can’t help but feeling like I just want to go home.

The night out is a blur. Leo gets drunk but isn’t an obnoxious drunk. He’s one of those folks who seems barely changed by it. But he can’t drive, which he’d anticipated, I guess, by having us drive.

After that, I tell them both good night and that I’m going home.

At home, I’m trying to explain to Mom what has happened. She’s working on putting up Xmas decorations, and I’m like, “If all things were equal, I’d be with Ceresa right now.”

She’s surprised to hear me say that, and I am, too, honestly—especially considering I have no idea how that would even work.

Mom asks me about my wife, and I say, “Well, that’s complicated, as you know. And as I said, Mom. If all things were equal. They’re not. They’re really not. Couldn’t be further.”

I help her finish putting up decorations, and then I wake up.

Play procedures

• You can add Ceresa to your list of contacts. I’d say you can add Leo, too, but I can’t imagine how that could possibly prove useful.
• Think of a time when you have lost time or otherwise ended up in a situation with no explanation as to how.
• This chapter counts toward unlocking the dreamwalking secret.