Dream

 2 days post-J. still feeling unsettled angry upset about it. feel I was treated unfairly. closure? how to recover? move on. whats next. 

Two days is very fresh.

Of course you feel unsettled. Your nervous system is still metabolizing it. When something ends abruptly or in a confusing, almost spiritually-packaged way (like that “we experienced exactly what we needed… we are becoming…” message), the body doesn’t register it as clean closure. It registers rupture.

Let’s separate this into pieces.

First: what you’re actually feeling
It doesn’t sound like you’re grieving just her.
You’re grieving:

• The effort you put in

• The money you spent

• The emotional endurance of that whole week

• The lack of empathy at the end

• The unfairness

Unfairness is the loudest one right now.

Anger is not a problem. It’s your boundary system saying: that did not feel reciprocal.

Second: closure
Here’s the hard truth — closure is almost never given by the other person. It’s created internally.

Closure is not:

• A perfect final conversation

• Them understanding you

• Them admitting fault

• A warm goodbye

Closure is:

• Accepting that this is how they operate

• Accepting that you saw enough

• Accepting that you do not need to decode them further

You already have the data. Your body felt unsafe. You felt lectured at. You felt unseen. You felt blamed.

That is information.

Third: how to recover (practical)

For the next 7 days, do not:

• Re-read old messages

• Check for new ones

• Analyze what she “really meant”

• Try to craft the perfect response

Your nervous system needs quiet.

Instead:

1. Regulate physically. Sleep. Walk. Eat. Hydrate. You’ve been traveling and stressed. Your body is depleted.

2. Write a private “unsent letter” where you say everything — the unfairness, the anger, the disappointment.

3. Reclaim the narrative. Instead of “I spent 2k on this debacle,” try: “I showed up fully. I handled stress like a champion. I gathered data.”

Because you did. You handled that week with composure.

Fourth: move on — what’s next?

You are at a pivot point.

Not in a dramatic spiritual way. In a grounded way.

Questions to sit with (not answer immediately):

• What did this reveal about the kind of emotional environment I will not tolerate?

• What red flags did I override?

• What did I do well?

• If I trusted myself more quickly next time, what would that look like?

This isn’t about becoming harder. It’s about becoming clearer.

Right now you’re in the “aftershock” phase. It lasts about 3–7 days typically. Then the intensity drops and clarity increases.

You are not actually stuck.
You are processing.

And here’s something important:
You left. You did not stay and argue for crumbs. You did not beg for understanding. You did not escalate.

That is growth.

If you want, tell me this:
Is the anger bigger than the sadness? Or is the sadness bigger than the anger right now?

this morning I had dreams about Amit . I had his child with me. I was waiting at a curb for him to arrive so I could give his child back to him. I saw him drive by in his blue Tesla. he didn't stop. he didn

That dream is not random.

It’s not really about Amit.
It’s about you.

Let’s look at the symbols slowly.

You were holding his child.
A child in dreams often represents something vulnerable that was created in connection with someone — hope, love, emotional investment, a shared future that never fully formed.

You were waiting at a curb.
A curb is a threshold. Not fully in the street, not fully inside. Waiting. In-between.

You were going to give the child back.
That’s powerful. That suggests you are ready to hand back responsibility. “This isn’t mine to carry anymore.”

He drove by in a blue Tesla.
A Tesla — sleek, modern, self-driven, forward-moving. Blue — emotional tone. He passed without stopping.

And that is the core wound:
You were left holding something meaningful while he continued on without engaging.

That matches how you’re feeling now with J, doesn’t it?

You carried the emotional labor.
You showed up.
You held the “child” — the vulnerability, the meaning, the effort.
And the other person moved forward in their own narrative without stopping to fully meet you.

The dream isn’t about wanting him back.
It’s about your psyche saying: I am tired of holding what was co-created alone.

Also notice something important:
In the dream, you were not chasing him.
You were waiting calmly at a curb. You weren’t running after the car.

That’s growth.

The pain in the dream isn’t desperation. It’s recognition.

Two days post-J, your mind is reaching for earlier templates of the same pattern. Our brains do this — they link similar emotional injuries across time.

Unsettled + unfair + unseen = old file opens.

The real question underneath this dream is:
Why do I keep ending up holding the emotional “child” while the other person drives away?

That’s not self-blame. That’s pattern awareness.

Right now your system is integrating:

• This recent rupture

• Older attachment wounds

• The theme of carrying more than your share

You are not regressing.
You are consolidating.

Tell me — in the dream, how did you feel when he didn’t stop?
Angry? Numb? Resigned? Desperate? Calm?

he drove by. he wasn't even looking around . we had a designated plan for the hand off . but his car wasn't even in the lane near the sidewalk. he was several lanes out . he wasn't even trying. despite all I was excited to see him. was happy and elated to see his face. but he drove on. next I remember calling his number. some relative of his answered. perhaps an uncle or someone one. there was a woman in the background. there was some communication about where is he what is he doing I have his child and am trying to make the connection to return the kids (now 2 of them) back to him. they were confused. I was confused. and sad. 

This is a very coherent dream.

Your psyche is not being subtle.

You had a designated plan for the handoff.
That means: there was an agreement. A shared understanding. Structure. Expectation of mutual responsibility.

But he wasn’t even in the lane near the sidewalk.
He wasn’t just late.
He wasn’t just distracted.
He was positioned in a way that made connection impossible.

That is not about accident. That is about misalignment.

And here’s the part that matters most:

You were excited to see him.
Happy. Elated.

Even after everything. Even while holding the child. Even after carrying the responsibility.

That tells me something tender about you — your heart stays open longer than your nervous system probably should allow.

Then he drives on.

And instead of rage, the dream shifts to confusion.

You call him.
He doesn’t answer.
A relative answers. There’s a woman in the background.
No one seems clear. No one seems organized. No one is grounded in the plan.

You are the only one oriented around reality:
“I have his children. We had a plan. I’m trying to complete this.”

They are diffuse. Vague. Disconnected.

Now notice the escalation:
First you’re holding one child.
Then suddenly two.

That’s the emotional math of your life.

You start by holding your portion.
And somehow it doubles.

This dream is not about romantic longing.

It is about this pattern:
You take emotional responsibility seriously.
You show up for agreed plans.
You stay organized around connection.
You remain hopeful and open.

And the other side:
Detached.
Distracted.
Unoriented.
Elsewhere.
Not even in the right lane.

The curb is still important.
You are at a threshold in your life.

The deeper message may be this:

You are done carrying what was co-created.
But you are still hoping the other person will show up properly so you can return it cleanly.

And when they don’t, you feel confused and sad instead of angry.

That’s the unsettled feeling from J too.

It’s not just “she treated me unfairly.”
It’s: “We had a plan for connection. Why am I the only one honoring it?”

And here is something strong:

You were not chasing the Tesla.
You did not run into traffic.
You did not abandon the children.
You did not scream.

You tried to resolve it through communication.

That is integrity.

The dream sadness isn’t about losing him.
It’s about being the only adult in the emotional room.