Continuation of dream, but at this point, it's no longer related to previous dream and because I was blogging at an external computer (madly, I might add, so I wouldn't forget my dream), I couldn't type up the whole thing.
(Here's the first part of the dream)
After trying to stand up for Stu, a girl of about eleven called me into her house. I knew that this was going to be sort of dangerous, because her family was rich and they thought of people like me as trash. With trepidation, I followed her in. She told me I could go into parts that no one but family was allowed in. I felt like an intruding babysitter. She had a younger brother and he was playing with his toys. All of a sudden, her mother called. Panic. I hid in their workshop. As if the mother were psychic, she came and sought me out and leant down to see me hiding under a wooden workbench. She wasn't mad at either me or her daughter, and I was glad.
Then all of a sudden, I was on some sort of school camp. I was watching a comedy show - the comedians were famous, and on the stage they played theatre sport type games. I was on a seat, like a trapeze swing, with a wooden plank to sit on and couldn't see the show properly. I swung it to see while my companions sat on theirs with no trouble.
I was part of some special ops team, and there was a beautiful, blond-haired man in my team. There was a growing attraction between us, even though I was aware that I had a partner already. Despite this, our attraction grew.
At one stage, I was adamant to prove how tough I was. As a BSG Starbuck-lookalike watched on, the blond man pressed a knife into my flesh, just above my knee (not far from where I have a scar in real life). He pressed, harder and harder, and pleaded with me to give in so he could stop. I would not let him stop. I began to fade. I said to him "I'm starting to feel faint..." Again, he begged me to make him stop. I wouldn't.
Eventually, he had to take me to our black special ops van and give me first aid. As he bandaged my leg, our faces stooped to kiss. The attraction was electric but I told him I could not: I had someone I loved already.
Bandaged up, I enjoyed the rest of the visit to this location. My high school French teacher Mrs Gorey was there. The blond man was aroused when I spoke to her entirely in French. She went to the door and smoked and we spoke more French. She did not smoke in real life.
