I'll See You When I Fall Asleep

Chapter 7

The walk back to the house seemed much shorter than it was. Cammie believed she had carried herself much farther away from her house this morning, but as she approached her driveway, she realized that there was no where far enough for her. She would have to return home, no matter how long she stayed away.

She paused at her door, hand loosly gripping the handle. For a moment, she felt herself falling apart again after desparately trying to pull herself together. She felt like a swaying Jenga tower that had fallen but was desparately trying to be pushed back up only to have pieces slip through fingers and hands. If she broke down, everyone would know something was off. They would immediately question her Dream, question Adam. It would be a matter of time before the truth would be revealed. How long would she be able to be under interrogation before she cracked?

No! She screamed at herself. Squaring her jaw and gritting her teeth, as if holding her jaw together would keep her from falling apart. "You're going to be a fucking lawyer. You can tell one lie," she hissed through her teeth.

The small motiivational talk gave Cammie the strength to push herself through the front door.

Ever the dutiful housewife, Elizabeth had been up at the crack of dawn cooking. Cammie's nose was met with delightful smells of bacon greese. Her mother spared no expense, especially on birthdays. Cammie peeked into the kitchen to find her mother slaving away over the stove, pouring batter into a pan.

"Hurry and shower dear, the food will be ready soon."

Cammie nodded. As she walked away, she laughed bitterly to herself. Of course Elizabeth Driver was more concerned with the presentation of breakfast than wishing her daughter a happy birthday.

Cammie walked up the stairs, each step draining her further of energy. When she reached the top, Anabelle rushed from her room, jumping into her big sister's arms like she had the other day.

"Happy birthday, Sissy!" She yelled. Cammie almost stumbled from her weight. Seeing her sister so excited almost crumbled Cammie's resolve. She felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes.

"I'm all stinky, Belle. Let me shower first." Cammie tried her best to say all of this with a laughing smile on her face. She felt more like a marionette on strings, playing the roll of Big Sister and Dutiful Daughter in the production of Lie to Your Family, Friends, and Boyfriend Until Everything Is Okay. She mused that she could win an Oscar with the performance she was about to give.

The moment the bathroom door closed and the lock clicked, Cammie felt herself shudder, her body threatening to crumble. She had only pretended to have everything together for five minutes—and this was the result? How was she supposed to get through the day? The next few months?

Cammie turned the water faucet, letting the sound of crashing water on the tiled floor drown out the thoughts in her head. The tears had again returned, but she promised herself that after her pity party in the woods, she would not allow it to take over, though it seemed that was always on the losing end of the battle.

Adam will see you in his Dream and all of this will go away.

She had to keep telling herself that.

The shower water pelted her skin with a fierce agression she felt she deserved. Punishment was the only solution to Dreaming of a girl. It was still an impossible mistake she could not believe had happened. There had to be some sort of explanation for this.

She blinked, the water hitting her back. Google. Why didn't she think of it earlier? Surely she would find some answers about weird Dreams, about people Dreaming of the wrong person, of their true Soulmate still Dreaming of them, despite a fluke in their own Dream. A wave of determination and focus poured over Cammie. Of course, that's exactly what she would do after breakfast.

She quickly finished her shower, dressed, and made her way down stairs, a sruge of hope coursing through her. Her family sat at the table, including her middle sister, Jessica, who stood up to give Cammie a hug.

"Happy Birthday," she said, grinning.

Cammie and Jessica shared many traits. They both thought this because they were only eleven months apart. Almost twins, but not quite. Elizabeth Driver had always wanted twins, one boy and one girl, the picture perfect family. When they found out that Cammie was alone in the womb, Elizabeth had insisted upon becoming pregant as quickly as possible. Elizabeth had also hoped for a boy on the second try. No such luck.

"Thanks. How was your semester?"

Jess went to school up north in Seattle. She much preferred the colder weather and the distance from her family. That is where the two girls differed the most: while Cammie loved being close and stopping by for dinners or school plays Annabelle starred in, Jess preferred to visit on the holidays and sometimes not even then. Unlike Cammie, Jess found their mother insufferably controling and suffocating. Cammie had advised her younger sister that their mother only wanted what was best for them and it would be wise to listen. Jess did not agree.

Jess had always pushed the boundaries of acceptability in the Driver household. In Elizabeth Driver's opinion, Jess' decision to majoring in art was the worst of it all, or would be if Elizabeth realized her middle daughter had started to decorate her body with tattoos and piercings (which Jess wisely removed and covered whenever she came home).

Cammie had remembered the two snapping at each other from another room when Cammie was home for Spring Break her first year of college. Jess had just received her college acceptance letter in the mail, which included her intended major.

"How are you even going to get a job?" Elizabeth had asked.

Jess had shrugged and retorted, "Maybe I'll just marry rich like you so I won't have to work."

The two hadn't spoken for weeks after that and Cammie often wondered with as sharp a tongue as her sister had, why she hadn't decided to become a lawyer too.

"It was good. I'm definitely getting better at ceramics and I've sold a few mugs at little art shows on campus."

Cammie congratulated her sister while stealing a glance at their mother, who was pretending that she did not hear the conversation. The two sisters exchanged a glance. Jess rolled her eyes in response to their mother's lack thereof.

"She's proud of you, but you know how she is," Cammie quickly whispered into Jess' ear. The other girl shrugged.

"Who's hungry?" Elizabeth asked.

Annabelle raised her hand high into the air, as if she were Hermoine Granger trying to answer a question no one else in the class knew.

Cammie was the furthest thing from hungry, her stomah twisting in on itself. She was not even sure she would be able to swallow without the food coming back up. But she had to try.

The family ate at a beautifully set table with colorful balloons tied around a vase full of sunflowers. "This is so nice, Mom. Thank you," Cammie said. She wished she could have enjoyed it more. The table was set with all of her favorite things. There were waffles piled high, bacon and eggs, butter and jam, and an orange drink set on Cammie's place mat.

"What's this?" she asked.

"A little mimosa for the birthday girl," Elizabeth replied, smiling.

Elizabeth was probably more excited that she could drink with her daughter now more than anything. Elizabeth was always found with a glass of red wine in her hand after 5pm and some type of mimosa or Blood Mary on weekend mornings.

Cammie looked at the glass. She convinced herself she could drink a little something. Besides, drinking would be worlds easier than chewing. Drinking would also take the edge off and make everything else easier.

Cammie took a sip, pretending that she had never tasted a mimosa before.

"It's delicious!"

Jess rolled her eyes, hiding her smile behind her hands.

"Dig in," Elizabeth announced.

"Where's Dad?" Cammie asked.

"He was called into work."

"I thought he wasn't working today?" Jess cut in.

Elizabeth shrugged. "You know how your father's work is."

"Yeah," Jess muttered under her breath and stole a glance at Cammie, baffled at how her sister could possibly want to follow in their father's footsteps. He was always called away to handle some fiasco that had arisen overnight.

The family served themselves breakfast and for a moment, all that could be heard was the sound of silverware scrapping against plates and the delightful chewing of waffles. Each bite of food made bile rise in Cammie's throat. Her stomach was rejecting everything, her adrenaline pushing her into flight mode was coursing through her body and pulling everything away from her stomach.

"So how did you sleep, Mrs. Silverstein?" Jess finally asked using Adam's surname. Jess wore a huge smirk across her face, as if taunting Cammie. Her heart began to pound in her chest and suddenly she lost what little momentum she had to finish her food. Her palms grew clammy.

Calm down, it's not like you didn't expect this question, Cammie reminded herself. Perhaps she let herself grow too comfortable in the idea that everyone would just assume she had Dreamed of Adam and therefore would not ask questions.

"How do you think?" Cammie replied, her sarcasm coated on a little too thickly to deflect any pretense that there was anything amiss.

Jess cocked her eyebrow. "I don't think you Dreamed of Adam."

Cammie's blood turned cold.

"I'm just messing with you," Jess said, shoveling another forkful of waffle into her mouth. "You should have seen the look on your face."

Cammie exhaled the breathe she didn't realize she was holding. If she did not get herself together, the ruse would be up before it even began.

"Of course I Dreamed of Adam," Cammie said, as if the question was not up for debate. "Can you imagine me with anyone else?"

Jess shrugged. Elizabeth seemed pleased.

"He is a very nice boy. And very hansom. I'm glad you ended up with him."

Cammie could only smile in response, not trusting herself to speak.

*

After breakfast, Cammie decided it was time to look at her phone and address the text message from Adam. She opened all of the "Happy Birthday" texts first, many of them asking whether she would indeed be Mrs. Silverstein. She ignored them all. She opened Savannah's next. Savannah had wished her a happy birthday like the rest, but instead of asking if she would be Adam's wife, Savannah wanted details.

Cammie laughed bitterly at the thought of how pleased Savannah would be to know that Cammie hadn't Dreamed of Adam. A sudden flush of anger spread through her at Savannah. She was the one who, all week leading up to her Dream, had joked about Cammie not seeing Adam, had hoped for it even. If this was anyone's fault it was Savannah's. How could her best friend have wished this upon her?

Thumbs prepared to type out a scathing response, Cammie took a deep breath and the moment of lunacy passed. Of course it wasn't Savannah's fault, but Cammie had felt that she needed to find someone to blame for this mess. Someone other than herself.

Instead, Cammie replied vaguely, letting Savannah know that had she dreamed of Adam—of course. She played up Savannah's idea that she was boring and predictable, confessing that she was right about her all along. Let Savannah think that; let Savannah think Cammie was not full of secrets or surprises.

Then came Adam's message.

With a hammering heart and a stomach full of knots, Cammie opened his message. His picture ID at the top of the message thread was smiling back her. Pure, no secrets. How she wished she could go back to yesterday.

The message was simple, sweet. He said that he hoped she slept well and that he was excited to hear about her Dream.

Yeah, if only you knew the half of it, she thought bitterly. She sat, staring at her phone screen, wondering what her fingers could possibly type out to convince Adam that everything was fine, that he was her Soulmate. How was it suddenly impossible to form a single thought or sentence to say to Adam after four years? Was this really the end of their relationship?

Cammie fell back against her bed, staring at the ceiling, as if the answers to her most burning questions could be decoded by the bubbled paint on her walls. As if the walls had spoken, Cammie suddenly recalled her idea to scour the internet for answers. She grabbed her laptop from her abandoned backpack and opened up Google. She chewed on her lip for a moment, deciding what she would search. She settled on the easiest question she had: Can your Dream be wrong?

She hit ENTER on the keyboard and watched as thousands of search results appeared on her screen. She clicked on the first one and would not stop until she had found her answer.

The first link that Cammie came to was a message board. It was a discussion of people and their Dreams: were they accurate? Could one change their Dream if they willed it? Was the Dream set in stone? The title was exactly what Cammie had typed into the search engine.

She read through the first post.

Can your Dream be wrong? I don't think so. At least, not from my experience. I was with my girlfriend for a year before I turned twenty-one. I had dated before that, but when I met her I knew I wanted to be with her. She was perfect and everything I was looking for in a woman. Well, fast forward to my Dream and I didn't see her. I was devastated. I loved this girl so much and I knew that she was perfect. So why didn't I Dream of her? I told her about the Dream and we did break up. Now I've been with my Soulmate for about four years, two of them married. I didn't even realize that I wanted all of the things that my wife is. I really liked my last girlfriend and thought she was perfect—but my wife is ten times better. So, no, I don't think the Dream is wrong. It knows better than you.

Cammie frowned at this first response, but it was not unexpected. There were so many stories like this: thought their significant other was perfect, they weren't, met their Soulmate, realized they were better, moved on. She wanted to find a new perspective on this.

She scrolled down the message board to more replies. Many were giving the first person to comment a "thumbs up" on the site, which meant that they agreed. A few bothered to reply with their similar stories.

She continued to scroll down.

Finally, she came across discrepancies, but they were much further down in the message board.

I Dreamed of an ex-boyfriend and we had broken up for good reason. We just weren't compatible. I remembered his birthday from high school, so when I contacted him, we were both very displeased with our Dreams. We talked and decided that we did not want to be together.

Cammie felt a surge of hope fill her chest as she read this account. There were two people who had Dreams of each other and didn't want to be together—and they decided not to be! There was hope after all. She wanted to be with Adam, so she could. Maybe if he didn't Dream of her, he would still want to be with her anyway. All was not lost.

She kept reading.

So we both decided to keep dating other people, looking around for what we wanted. After about two years of this, I realized I wasn't happy and I was not finding what I was looking for, especially because so many people were not willing to date around, especially people older than twenty-one. So I reached out to my ex. Turns out he was feeling the same thing and having the same sort of luck. So we decided to go on another date. This was almost ten years later. And things actually turned out great. We are now married with three kids. I never would have guessed that an old high school boyfriend would have been my Soulmate.

After finishing this post, Cammie's stomach twisted in knots once again and now she felt sick all over again. Was there no way this was going to work out for her? She scanned a few other posts, feeling more desperate every time she encountered an enthusiastic blogger answering, "No! Your Dream is never wrong!"

Cammie finally landed on a post that seemed satisfactory.

I don't know if my Dream was right or wrong. Maybe it was right, but I'm leaning toward it being wrong. She cheated on me right from the start. Even though we were supposed to be Soulmates, she didn't want to be with me. She left me for someone else. I don't even know why she bothered with me in the first place. I probably would have been happier if I had never met her.

That was a strange response. Cammie read the comments chaining down from this thread.

What did you do?

I stayed single for a few years. Then I thought maybe I wasn't the only person this had happened to. I found a group and met a nice girl. We're not married and I don't think we will be, but it's nice to have companionship and be with someone.

Companionship? Was all of this about not being alone? Cammie thought for a moment, considering if being alone was her only option at this point. No, she reasoned, it wasn't. The girl in that last post decided to be with someone else. But Cammie had no idea how that turned out for her.

Was the poster just supposed to pursue this girl anyway? Forgive her? Chase her no matter what because she was their Soulmate? Could she chase Adam because she was certain he was her Soulmate? Would Adam chase her and abandon his Dream? Could Adam even Dream of Cammie if she didn't Dream of him? That lead her into her next search. Fingers gliding over the keyboard, she punched in: Can you Dream of someone if they didn't Dream of you?

The results to this search were a little less coherent. It seemed that the majority argued "no" the same that they argued "no" to the question "can your Dream be wrong"?

She typed in another search: People defying their Dream. She looked through the results.

There were mixed reviews on this one, but again a majority of people argued no—you cannot defy your Dream. The few who did defy their Dreams seemed to be working on a time frame: Would one of the two people in a non-Dream-sanctified relationship leave the other for their Soulmate? That seemed to be a doubt that constantly hung over the relationship.

She read through article after article. In one, she found a surprising study by a professor of psychology who chaired the neuroscience program at a prestigious university. The study examined people who chose to ignore their Dream versus people who followed their Dream.

I think highly motivated people can change their Dreams. They can change their fate, so to speak. The Dream has existed for many years and for the most part it seems to work. But it might not be as simple as we once thought. We aren't sure what part of our brain triggers the Dream to happen. It has to be a very subconscious effort of the brain to project its deepest desires. But can we always trust ourselves? The author wrote.

Cammie skimmed through the article, growing more hopeful with each sentence. She definitely considered herself to be a high motivated person.

Is it right to disregard your Dream? I don't know that we can make that conclusion quite yet. It still is very rare for people to go against their Dream. In our study conducted over a five year period, studying a group of 2,000 men and women across the country, we found that 90% of them followed their Dream. Of those 90%, 88% had found their Soulmate by the end of the five year study. The other 12% revealed that they would continue to look. Of the 10% that did not follow their Dream, 8%, by the end of the five years, had confessed that they would begin to look for their Soulmate—they were not satisfied with their current romantic life. The remaining 2% said they did not care about their Dream from the start and would find their Soulmate on their own. They confessed to not trusting it.

Cammie stared at her screen. 98% of the people in this study went with their Dream. And not once in that study did she find that the Dream was actually wrong.

Cammie took a deep breath and Googled how people defied their Dream. It almost always ended badly. Finally, in a last-ditch effort, she Googled, "My Dream told me I'm gay."

She was surprised at how many results came up. She read through a message board dedicated specifically to this topic. She read the first response.

I had dated men all of my life and I had never looked at women, or felt anything for them. When I had my Dream, I was shocked and thought it was absolutely a mistake. But I thought about it more, found patterns in my life, and realized that I was attracted to women. I still think I could have easily ended up with a man, but my Soulmate just happened to be a girl.

Another post: Yeah, I found out I was gay when I had my Dream. I had no idea. But I dreamed of this beautiful girl and I met her in person and immediately knew I was in love.

Another: I didn't believe my Dream at first. I really thought it was wrong. So I decided to fake my age and date around a bit, see if I liked men. Sure enough I did. Who would have thought?

Another: Same here. I had no idea I was gay until my Dream. The worst part was that I'm Catholic and my family does not support that kind of thing. When I told them, they told me my Dream was wrong because God would never have me Dream of a man (also a man). It was really tough at first, but eventually my parents came around—I mean, it's my Dream. I don't have any control over that.

Someone had commented on the thread, and began to argue with the last poster about how God would never allow someone to Dream of a same-sex Soulmate. This person argued that it was clearly a flaw in their brain.

Cammie slammed the computer shut after reading through more confession stories. Though she was hoping that reading through message boards would help her, she felt the weight in her stomach stronger than ever. Her limbs left like they were not her own, almost as if she had been drugged and had no control over her own movement. The room felt like it was spinning.

Should she just tell Adam the truth and ask him to choose her anyway?

She thought about the last post, about the person arguing that God would never allow someone to Dream of a same-sex Soulmate. Maybe that was true. And if it was, what should she do? Were there people out there who had Dreamed of someone of the same-sex and rejected it? Was she supposed to date one of those men?

It was all too complicated for her. Her body ached from ehr run, her head from crying, and her eyes from not sleeping the night before. Cammie was completely overwhelemed. So in a very un-Cammie-like move, she decided to close her and fall asleep, hoping to have a few hours reprieve before Adam picked her up.

_________

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