I had a compelling dream in which I was going to visit my friend’s old girlfriend. I had a pen in my hand, which is why I’m writing this. The pen reminded her of him, and she started to cry. I was going to listen to her talk about all she’d meant to him. We were in southern Illinois, I think. There was long grass all around. I woke up and thought of another girl he’d had sex with, who was so into him that when she met him, she threw herself down on a sofa and asked him to take a picture.
When I was awake, I felt a sense of release. This person died thirty years ago; shortly after that, my life fell apart. I stopped feeling like a complete person then, and I entered the realm of shamanism, living half in and out of the world. In a way, he was the only person I ever saw as real. Years after he died, I realized he may have been entirely evil. He had been pursuing a Master’s degree, and he had been caught cheating. His life was destroyed, and he committed suicide. He was a total liar who took advantage of the vulnerable. Waking up, I could see him as a person again for the first time in thirty years, and also, I could see myself as a person again. This is interesting because I was doing some powerful ritual magic last night, and the spiritual forces seem very active.
I could see or sense the reality of all the other people he affected in this world. In some sense, I could heal the damage he did to me and feel like a human being again.

It was interesting to feel the story just beginning. She was about to pour her emotions out to me. The story of life was about to feel real. That’s something I missed in life, and now I have it.