As a Friend, Not a Counselor

Date: 7/17/2017

1: I was at a school as an agency counselor, like I am irl, and noticed a group of kids I was familiar with in the cafeteria. I sat down at a booth with them like it was a restaurant. I knew what a drug addled delinquent one of them was, because we had been friends a decade before. He just hadn't aged. One of the girls he was with had blonde hair that was dyed half purple and was wearing black eyeliner and shimmery purple eyeshadow. I told her that I used to look a lot like her, but at the risk of sounding old, it was different then. People stood out when they looked like that. Now it was more commonplace. I asked her what people do to stand out these days, but before she could answer I was approached by a supervisor and admonished for spending time with students who weren't my clients anymore. I knew it was against the rules, and thought about lying and saying they approached me and I just didn't make them go away. Besides I hadn't been talking to them as a counselor at all, but just as a friend, as myself. 2: This might have been part of the same dream, or a different one. A 17 year old boy who used to be a client irl was outside with a man who was threatening him. The man was a cop or a teacher, off the job. I was watching the scene play out not as a part of it, but like a movie. The man pulled out a gun and told the boy that he'd better start running, because in a few seconds the man was going to start shooting. The boy ran into the woods while the man counted down the seconds. But just as the man was about to start shooting, the boy's little brother ran into the woods after him. The man didn't see the little boy and started shooting into the woods, and ended up killing him. Suddenly I was sitting in a school auditorium with the older boy, and I looked and saw that across the aisle to the left of us, in the middle section, was the man who had killed his little brother. I wondered why he wasn't in prison and thought he must be out on bond. I pointed him out to the boy and it filled him with rage. I said that if I were him, I'd go over there and kick the shit out of that guy. The boy got up and went over there. I knew it was wrong to condone violence, but felt it was warranted in this situation. Instead of beating the guy up though, the boy just started screaming at him to "get out of here!" over and over, as the guy did what he said and left. 3: I was sitting on the edge of a bathtub with a therapist I work with. She and I used to not get along, which is funny because we look alike, both small and blonde with sort of the same eyes. In the dream I leaned over and passionately kissed her. She smelled nice and it made me think about how personal it is to get to know a person's unique smell, the kind you can only get up close.