Another dream

Another dream--2 days in a row! My mind will explode.

In this dream, for some reason my first boyfriend got in contact with me. I haven't seen him for 11 1/2 years (I ran into him at Stop & Shop at Christmas time the year I got married). I could find him easily if I wanted to--his mother owns a shop downtown. And he could find me too, since my parents live at the same address and have the same phone numbers as all those years ago (too many to think about--shudders). I will call him B.

So B calls me, and I go to this house where he's living, not far from where his parents lived (live?) in real life. It's in a total state of disarray, being remodeled in every aspect. But there's some furniture in the living room and it's obvious someone has been living there, sleeping on the couch. Even in the dream I really didn't understand why he'd called me after so many years. He seems unwilling to be alone with me, like I'm some kind of rapist. (Just a side note: I was 14 when we were first together, and although the relationship lasted on and off until I was in college, I never slept with him--not for lack of trying on his part.) There's a grumpy kind of overweight biker guy doing the contruction, and he's looking at me funny too, more like "what is SHE doing here?" then thinking I'm some kind of pervert.

Some other people come over, none of whom I know, and they are tramping through the house like they go there all the time, and from conversational clues I find out that B was living in an apartment with some woman (I want to say girl, but after all we're both in our mid-30's so it would have to be a woman wouldn't it?) and for whatever reason she threw him out. He already owned the house and was remodeling it in his spare time, but this forced him to go live there and pick up the pace, and he wasn't happy about it.

We all go upstairs, and there's a large common room up there with some bedrooms leading off of it. The common room is filled with boxes, and B starts taking stuff out and showing it to these people (not to me) and some of it was memorbilia from when he was in a band. He seemed resentful that he hadn't hit the big time, and was talking about how on the local scene he was hailed as the next Ace Frehely (except the picture showed him in Paul Stanley's makeup). I said, "yeah I remember all that," and a few of the women were kind of in awe that I knew B "when". And then one of the woman looked at me again, closer, and said, "B, isn't this your stalker? What's she doing here?" And immediately I defended myself--I never stalked him! What the fuck? And he was like, "yeah you did" and started detailing all this stuff I supposedly did, but I didn't. Some of it was during the 11 years since I last saw him, and other stuff I just wasn't even around for. I got kind of mad. Why invite me over after a DECADE and then accuse me falsely of doing shit I didn't do? And the other people are nodding, saying "yeah, yeah, I remember that," and I was dumbfounded.
Then B says, "That's why I wasn't sure about calling you, because of the stalking. I didn't want you to know where I lived." So why call me? I don't see him or think about him except very rarely (if I drive by his mom's antique store, for example, or his grandfather's trucking business)--I have no burning yearning yearning feeling inside me to see him again. (that's a soft cell quote, for those of you who missed it-and listening to Tainted Love is another time I think about him!)
And then he decided I was probably safe now, and he showed me into his real bedroom (not the blankets on the couch) and we were in there alone and I was thinking he'd try to seduce me or something, but he didn't. He wanted me to go somewhere with him and I agreed.
Where we were going was stealing things, but I didn't find that out until we were on the way. And the first place we went was at the end of my parent's street, and of course my dad saw me and came over to talk to me, and we're there in the dark trying to be inconspicous and here's my dad in full Alzheimer's glory not able to get out two words together anyone can understand, standing there like a beacon.
I don't remember what we were stealing. Expensive plants? Mushrooms? Buried treasure? But we got away from my dad (who recognized B in spite of not having ever seen him, funny huh?) and continued our run of thieving. We were in a pick-up truck.
And that's pretty much it.