I feel as though there is a plethora of information today, nearly none of which I can effectively make sense of, especially if I want to keep these posts relatively short (but why value brevity over clarity?)

Chronologically...

My dream last night: Alex with younger brother (Adam?) who comes home drunk. You are angry, but I take him from you, give him care, put him to bed. He asks me why you and I are back together again. Do I know, he asks, that you may not be enough for me? He starts to evoke his drunken opinion, I tell him to keep it. No one expects to break another's heart, I say, you can't forsee it... unless they've always meant to break it. I will keep this, I tell him, the possibility that he may break my heart again because he is what I need at present. Anything else, I say, I don't want to know.
Your older-younger sister is upset at drunkness, at broken bedtimes, at lost routines... commands in order to hold onto here dwindling sphere of influence. Younger brother & sister - twins hide behind doors. Did I imagine the brother twin? The younger sister brushing teeth downstairs until I come to find her: "You know you can talk to me, right?" and the 9 - 12 year-old tidal wave spills; her older sister gets more angry where she should become softer or more able to retain compassion. Where are your parents? In the absence of the parents, this girl needs an older woman, to speak to, confide in, verify her 10-year-old sanity. Put down your toothbrush, stop taking care of your older brothers. Does your older sister exist? Or is she the premonition of who you will grow into? Don't let the weight of care, of this responsibility, age you too heavily. Do not become stone.
I reach in while I still can; as an outsider, your eldest brother's girlfriend, the novelty of my presence something you can invest in liking. Let me take advantage of this. The older, perhaps imagined, sister is Jessie? But what is your name? The faded dream cannot even afford me a first initial. Sarah? Gracie? Perhaps the twins evolved from older forms of Cameron & Gracie (two twins I babysit), except you, the girl, stem more from my sister, Mathilda, when she speaks to older-sister-familiar-not-residential me, the novelty of not living together. You, the girl, stem more from me.
Maybe I hold my own hand, spill my own tsunamis.

I woke up and got out of bed after getting in & out of bed so much in my dream. When I got back in, you had rolled over. I wanted to pull you back, to say: I am cold and dreamt of sadness.

My alarm went off too early - you came back across the bed to wake me up. To which I said: I was cold, and had a bad dream. When I came back, you were futher away & I didn't want to wake you.

You pulled me in & brought me back. And again, conscious this time, I missed my alarm.
A small sacrifice for the warmth of comfort.