Colin's unearthly anger

I dreamt of Colin last night; we were in an apartment and we were fighting, in an absolute rage at one another. I don't remember what we were fighting about, but I recall feeling as though we had to stop or our relationship would be damaged beyond repair. He wouldn't stop, would not stop shouting at me. He was loud, unrelenting in his anger and accusations. He was like that in life, so very loud and bitter when he got angry at me. I became afraid in the dream, and suddenly Waltzer was there; he was trying to mediate between us, to help us understand. Colin became accusatory towards him as well, though I don't have a clear idea about what.

Then it changed and we were no longer fighting; I was hiding. Hiding from his towering anger and boiling hatred. He was looking for me, and was destroying everything in his path. I was afraid that he would destroy me as well. Waltzer helped me get away, get outside and running off down the street. But it was raining outside, and I was wearing a dress with tights and combat boots. My boots filled up with water, squishing and slopping with every step. I was cold and tired and confused. I had to turn around, go back to that apartment. I had to find an umbrella and change my clothes and put proper socks on.

When I got back to that apartment, Waltzer was also hiding from Colin. I snuck inside and managed to dodge Colin and creep back into my bedroom. It was in shambles. All the furniture was broken, bureau drawers turned out, clothes ripped from hangers and lying in crumpled heaps like empty corpses. I rummaged around until I found socks, but my umbrella was lost. I was frantic about this umbrella and it became terribly important that I find it.

I didn't find it, but I did find my car keys. I snatched them up and changed clothes, and ran out to my car. I managed to drive away, miles down the road, then had to go back. I don't remember what it was I needed that time, but the dream progressed like that through a series of events. I would manage to get away without calling attention to myself, get away clean and free, but then something would get stuck in my mind and I would have to go back. I couldn't get away, couldn't make the choice not to return to him and to his dysfunction.

I was never like that in our relationship. Sure, there was anger. We broke furniture and threw things around and hurt each other physically and emotionally. But I was never afraid of him. I never had to run from him, never needed anyone else to protect me from him. As awful as he would get, as awful as we would get together, I could hold my own against his anger and I never backed down in the face of his towering rage. I had my own rage, and I think mine scared him much more than his scared me.