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writing-for-life · 10 months ago

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Dream’s Therapist

Siblings

I am in the last throes of preparing with previous session notes (Intake, Insomnia, Nightmares, Emotions, Parents) when my receptionist informs me that the client has arrived. Slightly early again, but we are getting used to it at this point, to the degree that it would seem patently strange if he were on time or late. She informs me he has, as usual, brought a book to pass the time.

When the client walks into my office, I note said book is “Molloy” by Samuel Beckett, which he holds in his right hand. A moment later, it has disappeared, and I catch myself wondering where to. In any case, his body language tells me he is not in good spirits today: The coat stays on, he does not talk at all (usually, he at least greets politely, if slightly formally), and he just takes his seat without waiting for me to bid him to sit (which he usually does). As he sits down, he huffs (I can’t call it anything else).

I decide to bring up the client’s homework at the beginning of the session to get it over and done with. The question was whether it were truly paradoxical to allow himself to dream while thinking he is responsible for other people’s dreams.

DT: How did the homework go?

Dream (I notice he purses his lips): I do not wish to talk about it.

DT: You don’t have to if you don’t want to, you could…

Dream (He actually interrupts me): Then what is the point (I notice he does that overly plosive T again) of coming here?

DT (It’s one of those days again): Well, it is you who said you don’t wish to talk about your homework? (He glares at me, pouts but stays stumm.) Look, it isn’t really for me to tell you what the point of coming here is, to quote you. Even if I have thoughts about it. Can you remember why you want to come here?

Dream (The silence lasts four minutes): I have walked an eternity’s worth of dreams. Yet, I mostly remain the observer and never seem to touch anyone’s… soul.

DT (The homework hit a nerve. He definitely engaged with the question): So you long for connection?

Dream: When the last dreamer forgets my name, I will cease to exist (The delusion is in full force, but I am starting to understand why). There is no true connection for me.

DT: What makes you think that people who care will forget about you?

Dream (I notice a sound not unlike that of a strangled cat): Because no one remembers me as soon as they wake.

DT: Well, I’m wide awake, and…

Dream: (I notice he mumbles something that sounds like, “Unfortunately.”)

DT: Pardon?

Dream: No matter.

DT: As I was saying: I am wide awake, and I remember you; otherwise this would be very hard to do.

Dream (He frowns so hard that I can almost feel it physically, but he remains silent. Today will be like pulling teeth I guess.)

DT: If you long for connection, did you ever try to initiate it?

Dream (He snorts, only to then look out the window. The silence only lasts around a minute this time): Yes. (I am waiting because I initially think he might expand. He does not).

DT: What about your siblings? You told me previously that the relationship with some of them is fractured. What about the others? Anyone you’re close to? Or at least get along with?

Dream: My elder sister… perhaps.

DT: Okay, that’s a start. Can you tell me a bit about her and your relationship?

Dream: She is everywhere, at all times, to collect souls and guide them to the afterlife (I am briefly contemplating whether she is really in the funeral business or if this is one of his strange allegories again, but I let the thought slide). I envy her certain sense of… detachment.

DT: And why is that?

Dream: She quite possibly carries the heaviest burden of all of us. And still, she remains… optimistic, kind, compassionate. She perplexes me.

DT: Would you say she is the sibling you're closest to?

Dream: (I notice a certain sense of hesitation): Perhaps she understands the nature of our existence most. But even she cannot fully grasp my realm. Or understand me, for that matter.

DT: Did you ever try to explain?

Dream (He looks at me as if I am someone very young and very stupid. I am neither. Well, at least I am fairly certain about my age): What I am cannot be explained or understood. By no one.

DT: Try me.

Dream (He leans forward in his chair, cocks his head to one side and looks at me intently): Will you answer a question first?

DT: That would depend on the question—I can’t promise anything.

Dream: You mortals hardly ever do.

DT: Just ask and see what happens.

Dream (I notice he is staring at my paperweight again. Hasn’t happened for a while): What do you know of eternity?

DT (I have no idea where this is going, but I decide to play): It is not a concept that means a lot to me. Nothing is eternal.

Dream: That might be true. And yet, what if there were such a thing, or at least something that gets very close?

DT: Then I would probably still endeavour to focus on the here and now, because that’s all I can do.

Dream: Do you never yearn for things beyond your reach?

DT: That’s inconsequential to our conversation.

Dream: Is it, though?

DT (I sense he is trying to corner me somehow, so I decide to redirect while pretending I don’t): Let’s assume for a minute it isn’t then. So what if I did yearn for things beyond my reach?

Dream: I would consider it… (He hesitates, briefly looks down at his hands and then looks at me again) relatable.

DT (I am glad he relates, but I also think I need to redirect even more): Of course you would. Isn’t that what every type of connection is about? Even professional ones?

Dream (I notice he straightens in his chair and lifts his chin. The silence lasts a full nine minutes before I decide to end it).

DT: Can you tell me what else you find relatable?

Dream: No.

DT: Why not?

Dream: Because that is the entire problem. I cannot relate to anyone, and no one can relate to me. However, I envy you… Your fleeting life (The way he says it almost sounds like an insult) and your fragile heart and your ability to love, lose and taste mortality with every passing moment until you take your last breath.

DT (I usually don’t flinch, but I think I might have on this occasion and need a second to gather myself. I am fully aware he is aware that I am slightly rattled because the way he looks at me is both sad but also disturbingly… triumphant, as if he were not so secretly chuffed that he dealt me a blow): And what makes you think you cannot do, or have, any of these things?

Dream: Because Destiny's Book weighs upon me. He is my brother by the way, I am not certain if I told you.

DT: Didn’t you previously tell me you never forget a thing? (Drat! I shouldn’t have said that.)

Dream (I notice he blinks slowly and actually smiles. For the first time today): Touché.

DT (I notice my sense of relief, and I’m not sure I like it): I think I might have asked you something like this before, at least in a roundabout way, but what if you could tear a page from that book? Just like that. Or at least rewrite it?

Dream (I notice he looks out the window again): That has the potential to unravel existence itself (He seems to think. After 8 minutes of silence, he finally looks at me again). Destiny is the oldest, forever chained to his book. Imagine having a sibling who knows every possible outcome, every twist of fate (So we are back to his siblings. Strange change of topic). It is rather infuriating. He once predicted I would spill coffee on a dream record, and I did.

DT (I’m not sure if I am inwardly laughing or crying at this point): So we are back to hot beverages and cup revolutions?

He just stares at me. I notice I involuntarily, or maybe voluntarily, quirk my eyebrow, to which he responds with cocking his head and resting both index fingers on his lips. He is ACTUALLY trying to hide a smile): Well, I am glad you are amused. Should we use that energy to keep on talking about your siblings?

Dream (He sighs and rolls his eyes at me, but he is still half-smiling, so he doesn’t seem to be to opposed): My relationship to each of my siblings is complicated.

DT: And why is that?

Dream: Because each one of us embodies a concept. We are bound by duty but simultaneously divided by it.

DT: Can you elaborate on that?

Dream (I notice a slightly uncomfortable shifting in his seat): Well, there is Desire… Desire is… manipulative. Always scheming, always meddling in my affairs. Our relationship is strained, to say the least. Despair is at least somewhat predictable. And then there's Delirium. She used to be Delight, but… (He suddenly stops himself and shakes his head.). It is unseemly to discuss my siblings, they are none of your concern.

DT: Correct. But you are.

(I notice his eyes turn wet, and he swallows a bit too hard. I catch myself thinking that I feel sorry for him. And I really shouldn’t.) Professionally.

Dream (I notice he stares at my paperweight again): I did not imply otherwise. (He briefly looks at me before turning his attention to the paperweight again.)

There is another brother. He abandoned his function and somewhat chose to… create. Badly. When he used to destroy whole galaxies… (His voice trails off)

DT: I guess he just came to the conclusion he prefers creating nebulae shaped like a middle finger over destroying galaxies? (Why on all fucking earth did I say that?)

Dream (I notice the eye roll): Very mature… (I also notice he loses the battle against trying to suppress a smile again) Yet possibly true.

DT (I am relieved, but I also feel I should apologise)

Dream: No need.

DT (I am confused): No need for what?

Dream: For an apology.

DT (He’s trying to read my mind now, great.)

Dream: I am sorry, I shall abstain.

DT: From what?

Dream: From intruding.

DT: Intruding on what? (I notice I sound a bit prickly.)

Dream (He stares me blank in the face): Your thoughts.

DT (This is fine. Totally fine. He isn’t really reading my thoughts, what are the chances to get it right randomly? Probably fairly high.)

Dream: Even higher if you understand common patterns.

DT (Okay, we’re playing again): And naturally, you do.

Dream: Perhaps.

DT: Then tell me about patterns between you and your siblings.

Dream (He doesn’t get angry or tetchy as expected, and instead just stares at his hands): The patterns are… endlessly complicated. I am not sure you would understand the dynamics of our relationships.

DT: Have you, or your siblings, ever tried to change these dynamics?

Dream (He does look slightly annoyed now): We are… constants! Change is a foreign concept to beings such as us.

DT: Is it truly? You’re changing, aren’t you? You’re even smiling. Here and there. That’s definitely a change.

Dream (I notice a face like thunder): I think not.

DT: Not what I’m seeing.

Dream (He leans forward in his chair): I. Do. Not. Change.

DT: Okay, what about your sister then?

Dream: Which one?

DT: The one who changed? The one you said, “used to be” Delight?

Dream (I notice he opens his mouth briefly to then close it again. He thinks for a hot second): I suppose, within our limited capacity, there have been…efforts to change. But…

DT: So it is possible then?

Dream (I notice the wet-cat-head-shaking): You don’t seem to comprehend that there is no balance in change. Not in any of my siblings. And I wish for balance. For a semblance of… harmony.

DT: Why do you believe there is no harmony in change?

Dream (I notice an exasperated sounding puff of air exiting his nose): I trust our time is up?

DT: No.

Dream: Very well, I shall leave then. (He gets up.)

DT: You’re right, some things truly don’t change.

Dream: I told you so. (He starts to walk out.)

DT: Are you still committed?

Dream (He stops and turns to look at me): Did you not tell me, just a second ago, that some things do not change? And did I not previously encourage you to use ink for however long you deem necessary? I do not have the tendency to go back on my word.

DT: And I don’t have the tendency to assume people aren’t free to change their mind.

Dream (He just stands there and glares at me): You have an obsession with change.

DT: Comes with the territory. Still ink, or would you rather default to pencil?

Dream (I notice the slightly exasperated bridge-of-nose-pinch): Ink. It is marginally more unchangeable…

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#the sandman #sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #morpheus rp #the sandman fanfiction #Dream’s therapist #it’s been a while #not gonna lie: with all that’s been going on my drive to write was moving towards 0 #and it was hard to keep it light #and it gets harder the longer I’m writing this #but I wanted to get back on the horse #sandman fanfiction #the sandman fanfic #sandman fanfic #queue

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