I am in a room. I go to the window to look out. The lace curtains are painted on the window. I try to move it or scratch it off. I can't see much out the window. There is a man that wants me back into a relationship with him. If I like the house, maybe I'll move back in, so he keeps checking with me to see if I like things. I travel through the rooms looking, not wanting to be back in the relationship. Too many bad, poor years. The house has many rooms. I start figuring out what each room is, a dining room, then a utility room for washer and dryer hook ups. I see a basement room. The man asks what I would put there, and I say, "The pool table." He is pleased.