Just before I woke up this morning, I dreamt that I would have to face a test. I had no idea what the test would involve, or when it would begin; I only knew that it would present more of a challenge than any test I had ever taken.
As I waited for the test to be announced, I found myself working at the Coles Bookstore (which no longer exists) on Sparks Street. Even though I went through the motions of work, I was afraid of the test. I tried to convince myself that I had nothing to fear; after all, I had taken many tests in university and high school. How tough could a new test possibly be?
Still overcome with dread, I found myself joined at work by my last girlfriend, who had left me seven years ago, and who now (in reality) lives on the other side of the continent. I will never see her again, but in the dream, there she was, right beside me.
She was emotionally distant, at first, but the job pushed us together, and soon we began to talk. It became clear that she still had feelings for me, and as the dream went on, my anxiety over the test was replaced by a rush of excitement over the possibility that she and I would start all over again. For the first time in years, I felt hope; for the first time in a long time, I felt happiness, a sense of inner comfort, a sense of being whole. There was a genuine possibility that she and I would soon be together again, and I felt so good, so alive, so unbroken!
Only when I woke up did I understand how thoroughly I had failed the test.
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