I am in my wheelchair and so is Derek. We are seated outside a house, where inside are some of my relatives. Derek is holding a baby girl and I am holding a baby boy. We are not speaking because I am hurt and angry at him. My baby boy squirms and fusses and I move him around until I have him seated on my lap facing me and I cuddle him. He settles down contentedly. It's soft and loving. Then my mother comes out and says, "It's time for the presentation." I am annoyed because I want to stay with this warm, loving feeling with the baby. I then hand the baby to a woman and wheel inside. I see a huge room, where many people are seated around in a circle, on ritzy couches and fancy chairs. I look for a good place to put myself so I can see everyone and they can see me. Derek is now on one of the couches. I avoid him, taking great pains to snub him and not give him eye contact. I chose the head of the room, by the huge fireplace. There is also a skeet shoot apparatus up on the wall to my left. Derek encourages the rich man who lives in this mansion to shoot the birdie. He tries a couple of times, but it is all weak and ineffective. A silly coo-coo type mechanical bird flaps his wings, and a sort of pop gun goes off. Now I begin my lecture. I want to keep it informal and answer questions. The topic is dreams. I say, "I know lots of things about dreams and my bias is Jungian, but I don't want to inundate you with all this. Just ask me what you want to know and I'll try to answer it." I am watching the words I use so I don't trigger Derek's automatic responses around 'know-it-all left brain language." Some ask some questions and it goes on. Now it's over and a man, like Richie, Kyle's brother, also a rich man from this mansion, is seated on my right. He is telling me how much he has wanted to meet me because he'd seen pictures of me and I'm fabulous and he loves me and would like to have s-e-x with me. And he goes on like a star-struck fan. I say to him, angry and bitter, "I am 51 years old. You are young. This is stupid and won't work." He ignores me and prattles on and on, very gushy and intense. I want to leave now. Derek is nearby watching. Now I'm on a couch and a bookshelf contraption slides in front of "Walter" and myself to give us some privacy. I want to leave. He grabs me and tries to kiss me. I fight and scream, "Leave me alone, no no!" I break from his grasp, and I see Derek is frantically getting into his chair to come beat up Walter and protect me. I am sobbing violently and deeply. I drive away in my chair to the van and Derek follows. I am screaming, crying and he won't leave me alone. He hangs onto my handles and hitches a ride with me; he is concerned and loving. I am deeply hurt and sad. This Walter, who I don't like and don't want, wants me. Derek, who I love and want, won't have me. It has been this way all my life. It's not fair. I sob and sob, a deep grieving.