I'm at a party in my apartment, and for some reason I plan an Irish exit from my own home. As I open the door to leave, I notice the woman I'm falling for is watching me. I rush back inside, horrified by the idea she thinks that I'm avoiding her. She runs into my room, which is cartoonishly messy, and lays on the floor under my bed with her head peaking out, surrounded by tissues and moldy coffee cups. I lay on the mattress and nervously look her in the face.

The apartment turns into a suburban complex, similar to where I lived in Los Angeles. Her phone rings, and I can make out the muffled voice on the other end of the line. She begins walking away, she won't come to my gathering anymore. I run after her, begging to know what was said and why she's leaving. She hops in a car being driven by a friend, and pulls away despite my cries. I watch the car pull off the street and disappear onto the freeway, and know they won't be coming back. I fall to the ground and do a somersault, and think to myself how stupid that probably looked if she was watching me in the rearview. I hang my head over a wired fence for a moment, then the urge hits to sprint back to my apartment.

The complex is now an old persons home, and I run through the shifting layout, bursting through doors towards where I think I'll find my room. I need to find my phone and try to call someone. And then my alarm went off and I woke up