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Well. For the entire summer, and maybe a little bit into the school year, I have had reoccuring dreams of Matthew and I breaking up, or of him cheating on me. They would not appear every night, but, every few nights. One would occur at least once a week. As summer has gone on, they have also become more frequent.

The only thing similar between them was that Matthew and I were no longer "together" whether emotionally or physically. Most of the time he did the betraying. Sometimes I would be heartbroken, others I would be indifferent.

Last night was a particularly strong dream. In it, Matthew broke up with me and started dating Lauren Alonge. I remember being angry, depressed, and heartbroken. He avoided me for a while, but, I finally contacted him, and he agreed to start dating me again. However, right before the first date, I realized that I didn't want to start dating him again.

I follow the Jungian theory of dreams.... to some extent. Yes, I do beleive that people dream in archetypes, but, I also beleive that dreams can provide insight into things that happen in your life.

I know that I am afraid of loving people and having them not love me back. While I was in high school, I would go through fits of depression where I convinced myself that my friends really did not love me, and that I was all alone. This has continued into my relationship with Matthew, where I become afraid that he will suddenly stop loving me, and I won't know until too late, and all the emotions I had put into him would be worthless, because he would not love me anymore. I have had constant reassurance from both Matthew and my friends that this fear will never happen, but still. It remains. I suppose that means my fear is irrational then.

Previously, I thought my dreams of abandonment had to do soley with this fear. It made sense, right? I'm afraid of being abandoned, and those fears come out in my dreams. However, even if I had seemingly resolved this fear, the dreams kept on happening and happening.

I woke up from last night's dream in the middle of the night, unhappy and slightly frightened. After I had woken up completley, I realized that what I had previously thought the meanings of my dreams were must not be true in some part. After all, those dreams would stop. So, I started thinking in archetypes. In Jungian theory, I would represent my feminine self, and Matthew, the main male character, would represent my masculine self, my animus.

I had previously dreamt about my animus a great deal, when I was ill and dying. In those dreams, he had always played the persuer, chasing my feminine side, but never reaching her. After some thought and a couple of tarot readings, I realized that in my illness, I had become almost completley male. I thought like a male, I acted like a male, and all my hopes and dreams were male. I had lost my feminine side. After reading a good book about illnesses and how they relate to your state of mind and how you feel, I realized that I had created my illness because of a series of factors. My disease, Cushings Disease, corresponded to my sixth chakra, the chakra that dealt with change. After many days of contemplation, I found out what I was afraid of changing. I didn't want to grow up. College was starting to loom over my horizon. I was only 16, but I needed to start being careful of what I did, because it would all have an effect on where I went to college. My mindset previously had been "Well, since I'm going to college in a few years, I need to start growing up." I started doing my chores religiously, and even adding a few extra ones in, just to make more money, because that was what "grown up" people did. I even scheduled my time, and what I would do for free time and hobbies. This resulted in an illness that not only was killing me, but it made me emotionally numb. I felt nothing. Happiness, sadness, humor, even love, was all gone. And I considered myself to be grown up.

A few days later, I had my operation. One of the most potent things that I remember, and will always remember, was my first waking moment. I was in the waiting room (I'm not sure exactly what it's called) where you go right after you've had an operation, and they make sure everything's okay. I was groggy, and too tired to open my eyes, but, a surge of joy swept through me so strong that I would have laughed if I had the energy. I was cured, and I could start growing up all over again, but this time at my own pace.

I suppose I didn't work very hard to restore my masculine and feminine side. I decided that in school, I would have a rigid schedule and work hard. But, for fun, I threw away my stupid schedule and just did whatever the hell I wanted. I even stopped picking up my room and making my bed every day. I was happy. My frienships bloomed, I made new friends, and I even had a crush on "Peaches" the alto sax player who generally sat behind me in band.

When I finally went to college, I was afraid, and I acknowledged my fear. I realized that I never had to really grow up if I didn't want to, but I did want to grow up, I just had to figure out what my definition of adult hood was and the responsibilities that I had to deal with.

And then I met Matthew. I fell for him, and we started dating. We bonded well, I suppose, and we became boyfriend/girlfriend. I was extremley happy, and spent most of my time with him. I had wanted a boyfriend very badly in high school, but noone was interested in me, so I remained alone in that aspect of my life. However, even if I wanted a boyfriend, I always swore that I didn't need one, and I did not respect the few girls that I knew that ALWAYS had to have a hip attatchment.

But, I became the type of girl I despised. I stayed around Matthew all the time, and most, if not all, of my energies were devoted to him. I didn't want to lose him because I loved him so much, so I felt that if I became devoted to him, I suppose, that he would have to love me back. I threw away all of the strength that I had gained after my illness, all that I had learned, simply for a love that I had no idea, and I still have no idea, whether it would last.

After I realized that, I felt a sense of peace. Yes, I had ******** up. I had thrown away my independence for a boy. A boy that I loved, but still. I lost myself.

And, I realized, that, in esence, I had become separated with Matthew. Not in the literal sense: we were still dating, but, since it was summer vacation, the boy who I had devoted EVERYTHING to, I saw only during the weekends, and not even every weekend.

So, I need to find myself again. I need to become independent. Heaven forbid, if Matthew and I actually break up, that I become lost because I don't have him around constantly.