The Meadow: Intruder

"What are you doing here?!" I ask Ramona, trying to shrug her off.

At the time this was happening, I only vaguely knew who Ramona is.  All I knew was she felt familiar, but not distinct enough to be anyone in particular; typical dream character. 

She ignores my attempt to shrug her off of me, and instead cuddles closer.

I shrug her off again, and this time I prop myself up on my elbows and look at her.  Her large, sad eyes glisten in the moonlight, like two beautifully dark holes in her porcelain skin.  She smiles a nostalgic, knowing smile at me.

"What are you doing here?" I ask again.

Her smile widens and includes her eyes.  "You want me here."

"No I don't, you aren't my wife. Go away.  I'd rather be alone with my thoughts."

"Exactly."  Ramona puts her hand delicately on my chest and guides me back down onto my back, then cuddles back up onto me, as if to bid that I simply let it happen. 

I understand now.  I conjured her up to keep me company, unused to being alone.  When I am alone, it's usually accompanied by lustful thoughts and actions, anyway, so this is a comfortable place for part of my mind.  However, I distinctly remember creating the Meadow to escape people like her, as well as the usual business with a character of her morals.

I stand up, casting her aside, and when I look back, her top has been removed.  Black bra.  More porcelain skin.  She acts hurt and pouts.  Damned dreams. 

"Leave me alone," I say emphatically, and stamp off in my wet boots to the edge of my mind.

"You'll be back," she calls after me, "You always come back."

I rip the Meadow apart and crumple it into a ball, throwing it back into the Filing Cabinet.  Sitting up in bed, I turn the light on, as well as some Counting Crows.  I begin to journal.

Your manhood is lost somewhere beyond the sea, I wrote in the corner of the drawing pad, next to a doodle of a cityscape on the water. Your father couldn't find it, and you most certainly can't.
Just give up.
Just give in.

Blue morning, blue morning wrapped in strands of fist and bone...
All your life is just a shame, shame, shame...

Disgusted with myself, I get up and go for a walk.