Sometimes a friend has to be a little cruel in order to be your friend

I don't think my mind has ever really understood that it's supposed to be working for me. The bastard is strictly freelance. 

This morning it cooked up and served me a dream about you. I hope to forget the details quickly, and will not mention them here, but suffice to say you demonstrated, in several different ways, that you are not the girl I thought you were or hoped you might be. There was a time when that dream would have been lethal to me. 

This morning the dream was unpleasant, disgusting even, but it didn't really hurt all that much. You'd simply become someone I no longer knew and didn't want to be around. That's all. Seeing you there, I felt regret and wished that things could be otherwise, but I also felt a strong urge to go somewhere else.

My mind - my faithless employee - took something I'd idealized for so long and debased it five or six different ways in the course of three or four minutes. Remarkable. But it wasn't mocking me, not torturing me. It was simply showing me.

When I woke up, my first thought was - how could you do this to me? But now I realize its intention was to tear the Band-Aid off and push me forward once and for all. To remove the last of the scales from my inner eyes. To set me free. 

You're a weird son-of-a-bitch, Senor Mente. But thank you for having the best interest of the company at heart.