My dreamlife is suddenly much more exciting than my real life!

July 4
Matt and I are at my grandparents' house with my extended family. Gigantic roaches are crawling all over the walls. They aren't roaches, they're trilobites. Except they aren't trilobites. Their antennae are too long. Their antennae are dancing! They are the bugs from the Matrix.
The fact that my grandparents' house is full of vermin embrasses me. I grab Matt's hand and we leave.
Twilight. We are on my front porch. The sky is a lovely bruised smoky purple. The haze parts. Strange lights fill the northwest sky! We walk down the porch and onto the street, following it and trying to see better.
We are staring at nebula soup. There are three pink comets chasing each other's tails. Little white lights dance around them. Everything behind this is blue. All shades of blue. We are looking at every shade of blue that has ever existed.
Other people come out of their houses to look at the sky too. We are all filled with a peace and familiarity with each other that we have never felt before. I turn around to hug Matt. He isn't Matt. He is my sister Erin. She and I stand close, shoulders touching, smiling at the sky. A white rocket flies over the crowd. The world is about to end. I know that this is okay. I am not afraid.
I wake up.

July 5
I am coming home from a date. I go up the back staircase. The walls in front of my bedroom door are covered with Gary's distinct geometric handwriting. I am afraid. He has been in my home when I was not there. I know that he is not there anymore. I know that the house is empty and silent and dead. It bothers me that he left me a message and left without seeing me. I begin to read.
The more I read, the more words appear. This seems normal.
The beginning of the message is angry. I am a bitch. I am not his mom. I think I am better than him.
The middle part of the message says that he misses me. He is unhappy. He wants to see me, but is he ashamed of himself. So he hides.
The end of the message is vague. Maybe he will see me again. Maybe he won't. But he misses me. He cares about me.
It is a suicide note, maybe.
I wake up right before I find out.

July 6

Matt and I are camping out in a cave with a cellphone. His father is a treasure hunter. He just found two gigantic chests full of what might be the find of the century. Hundreds of miles away, scientists are are prying them open. We are waiting for his mother to call us and tell us if the treasure is in there or not.
It isn't a cave, it is his bedroom. He is lying on the floor in a sleeping bag. I am sitting in chair about 6 feet away. He is tense. He doesn't want me to be there. He takes deep breath.
"I think I am going to fall in love with Carolyn. Is that okay with you?"
I feel like he just punched me. My skin is cold and numb and hypersensitive. I can tell by the steely edge in his voice and his rigid body that it doesn't matter if it is okay with me or not. He just has to get me out of the way. I do not want to cry.
"I need to be held."
He parts the blankets and opens his arms and I slide in beside him. His arms are dead logs around me. He is stiff and he doesn't want me there. I know that he is only holding me because it will help scoot me out the door quicker.
I wake up.
Interesting note: Neither he nor I know anyone named Carolyn.