Another night of mares...

Wait... no, that's not right. It was another night of nightmares. (This guy who rights the titles ain't too good but he works cheap, so...)

I went to bed last night around 1am but was up at two in a panic. I don't remember the nightmare but it was a doozy; I shook as I walked from my bedroom to my front door and went outside for a cigarette. I didn't sleep for a couple hours after but, as 4am passed, I went back to bed.

The next thing I knew, I was walking up to my condo. It was in a nice complex; I was doing well for myself. Bandoo was sitting in the midst of a huge flowerpot I'd put outside the front door. I spoke to him for a second and turned to look at the balcony/walkway across from my own. Over there was Rosa.

Yes, another Rosa nightmare. These usually come in one of several different forms.
a) Rosa needs me
b) Rosa tortures me

This time, it was c) Rosa rejects me. As I'm sure you can understand, I've seen it before.

I called out to her. She was doing yoga stretches out there and looked up.

I was invited over and several friends came along. (Actually, they didn't seem like anyone I know but I did get the idea they were friends.) She had several people there, too, and I got the idea they were Michael's family.

We sat in her kitchen for a while, talking. I don't remember what led to it but at some point I asked if she would like to go out sometime.

She told me that was out of the question.

I looked on the wall and there was a painting of Rosa. And I realized for the first time that she looked just like Selma Hayak (or however you spell her name). I told her the painting was very good and Michael told me it had been done by some eminent artist.

"Why won't you have anything to do with me?" I asked.

"You still have a lot of issues," she replied.

Issues? I didn't seem like I had any. I wasn't poor if the condo was any indication. "What issues?"

"Relationship," she answered.

"Relationship? What type?" She hesitated. "What type? Personal? Business? Family?"

"Family," she answered.

"Well, then, let me tell you a little story about my mom and Keith and my dad and my brothers. Let me tell you about family."

She was obviously upset. "That's not all there is and you know it."

Michael stepped in. "Maybe you should let it go."

"No. Wait. You must see that there's nothing wrong with me. I can make you happy. Just give me a chance. What are the other issues. What?"

She protested, something about my not being satisfied no matter what she said.

"Why not take a chance? Tell you what: I guaranty that if my answers don't convince you I've changed, I won't press. Okay?"

But Rosa was gone.

"You'll have to go," Michael said to me as he, too, disappeared.

Michael's family came in and insisted that me and my friends leave. My friends were telling me I should go.

"But there's nothing wrong with me," I screamed.

It was that scream that woke me up, terrified, gasping for breath.

It was 5:21.

I thought I was through with this. What am I in for? Another round of nightmares? Has this been brought on by the play's ending? The return to my own Rosa-less existence?

I don't know... but I'm rather pissed off about it.