I had a very vivid dream last night. In color. It was horrific on the one hand, but very enlightening.
I was with Mom and we were in a large kitchen getting ready to cook Snowball for dinner. Snowball was not dead. I had shaved off all her hair and she was pretty pitiful looking. I basted her and put her in a roasting pot and into the oven she went.
After five hours, we took the pan out of the oven, but the rabbit was still not dead. She was wet and cowering in the bottom of the pan, silent but trembling, but still very much alive.
“You’re going to have to finish it off,” Mom declared. “It’s the only way it will ever be cooked.”
I started crying. “I know, but I didn’t want to be the one who had to do it. I feel like such a failure.”
“You have to do it or it will never be over,” she told me.
I grabbed Snowball’s head, gave a savage sideways yank and broke her neck. It was easy. I heard the snap and felt her go limp. I was relieved that it was over.
I awoke in that moment with the very clear message that the rabbit was the remains of my relationship with M and that I would have to be the one to break the neck of his illusions that we have anything left to save. Short, sweet, brutal. There’s no other way.
He sent an e-mail yesterday saying that the rabbits are almost out of food. I wrote back (very business-like) that I would bring food on Thursday. I don’t know if he will be there or not.
I hope I have the words to tell him that I’m done. That our relationship is over for good and he needs to let me go. If our next conversation goes anything like the last no mention will be made about how I feel – it will be about him and I don’t even need to be present while he drones on and on.
One thing sticks in my mind about the last time we talked – he told me that he doesn’t even remember most of the things I say he did to hurt me. I am red with rage over that one. How fucking convenient for him! If he “can’t remember” and I can’t forget, who is the bitch keeping anger alive? I totally come off as the villain in that story, don’t I? I can hear his Pity Party to everyone he knows about how I am so stuck in the past that I can’t forgive him for things that he’s not even sure happened. And on and on.
I can’t afford to care what lies he will spread about me, if he hasn’t already started his Smear Campaign. I have a life to live and it does not involve Narcs and their bullshit!