what dreams may come

The interior of a large structure. Dark and wooden. Like the castle of Rohan. Everywhere, people. Extended family members. Celebrities. Friends from all life stages.

Nana: "Emily! Jordan! Your dad has a present for you!"
Shoving through the throngs, I made my way to a large Christmas tree. Beneath it was a box. In the box was a puppy. A small, merle-colored dachshund pup. Tiny, tiny. Fit in my hands. Yawning, stretching. Adorable. Love.

I wander through the wooden palace some more, the tiny puppy held tenderly but firmly in my arms for the remainder of the dream. The structure now resembles Des Moines' own 7 Flags Event Center; but still all built of deep, dark wood. There *is* an event taking place. I never can determine what it is, however.

I walk to the coat check. The coat check is a shower. I sit in the tub, fully clothed. Apollo Anton Ono and a female are ice skating before me. I pull the shower curtain closed, and peek out occasionally. They laugh at my shyness and ask me to tell them what tricks to skate. I do, but still take refuge behind the curtain. Someone turns the water on. I jump out of the tub, concerned for the little dog's well-being. my hair is dripping wet after half a second of watery contact.

I then notice someone has been sitting in a chair, observing me all the while. He seems upset. I seem to know why, yet want him to say it.
Me: "What's wrong? What is it?"
He merely shakes his head.
Me: "The male attention I receive doesn't mean anything, you know. You don't need to be jealous."
Him: "How can it mean nothing?"

Me: "If they meant it, they'd prove it."