I dreamed I lived in a studio apartment with a lover and my parents.
I got up to make sure the doors were locked, and saw a man chasing another man in the street and yelling, "You have to love me!" I thought to myself, that gay couple is having a fight.
I continued locking the doors, and had a hard time with one of them. I moved on to the next door, and suddenly, the two guys from outside, plus a woman holding a burning pan of food, were standing in the apartment with me.
I sensed that they were extremely dangerous. "You have to get out," I said, and the woman said, "We just want to talk with you about something." I knew they planned to kill me and I yelled for my father.
I woke up yelling, "Dad!" I was so shaken, I couldn't remember where I lived. I thought the bedroom was the whole apartment. I couldn't remember who I lived with. My heart was pounding for a long time.
It's the worst dream I've had since college. I felt really anxious the next day.
My dad, in real life, is very sick and just had a stroke, but he's not in imminent danger of dying.
I think though, that as we lose our parents in middle age, the cushion we thought we were long over, is suddenly scary to lose.
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