Silas and I were called in to start our studies before I could ask him more, but I couldn’t imagine dreaming that I was in hell every time I closed my eyes. I realized that as crappy as things were going, they could be worse and I hoped that the study would serve its intended purpose – help me move on from the delusions that I escaped to an alternate reality where my life was better with the girl of my dreams.
The bed for the sleep study was comfortable and I didn’t mind all the wires and things they attached to my head to monitor my vitals while I slept. I remember falling asleep easily and I was there again, in that alternate reality.
In my dream, they were fighting in a way that I had never witnessed. My dream girl paced around our room red faced and yelling at Dream-me like I was a child.
“We’re not rich Adam! Why the fuck did you buy that big ass tv? We don’t even watch tv!”
“Now we can! Don’t worry, babe, it was on sale…”
“You spent $500 and it was on sale? You’re a fucking idiot!”
“C’mon, this tv is beautiful.”
“We’re saving for a house!”
“Now we have a nice tv for it!”
“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be the only one who cares about money. This has to be something we both want. We’re partners, I’m not raising a kid, Adam…” her voice cracked and I could see all of her grief over the miscarriage rush to her face.
Dream-me hugged her. “You’re gonna be a great mother. We’re gonna have a baby together.”
“I don’t think we should. I don’t think this is going to work.” She pushed Dream-me away gently.
They talked/argued all night and just before I woke up from the sleep study, I knew that she was serious. It was over.
I was noticeably upset when I woke up and the assistant that helped me remove all the wires tried her best to calm me down. I went to work after I was released and was agitated all day. How was it possible that even in my dreams I couldn’t make it work with her? I knew that Dream-me loved her and things seemed to be going well, but I was even stunted in my dreams and Dream-me‘s immaturity had slowly worked to convince the girl of my dreams that I was a static loser who couldn’t be more than what he was yesterday. It hurt a lot to learn that she didn’t think Dream-me would make a good father.
When I got the results of my sleep study, I was in a therapy session. My psychologist had the results and I could tell that she was struggling to understand it and explain it to me. I figured that the study had confirmed that I was indeed a sad, insignificant man who would always be alone, circling the same issues that I would never be able to correct. But I was wrong.
“There was an anomaly. For most of the study there is minimal brain activity, like you were brain dead for most of the night. But they’re convinced there was some sort of malfunction. There was another study that was conducted the same night as yours that had the same results. There’s obviously something wrong with the results.”
I immediately thought about Silas and I left my psychologist’s office immediately. It was all real, everything I saw in my dreams was real and Silas really did go to hell when he slept. And I had really lost the girl of my dreams twice. But rather than sulk, I took the results of the sleep study as amazing news. It was the beginning of my origin story. I was determined to find a way to use my gift to do something amazing. I could do it too. If I was man enough to miraculously evolve, surely I could take advantage of it.
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