I took that dream to my therapist, and gave her my interpretation. She challenged me to see deeper about each piece of the dream. The things that stuck out the most, they're all characters, they have meaning even if they are in-animate objects.

Where the dream happened, it has meaning. In that church parking lot I remember listening to my headphones late at night walking around it, looking at the stars, wishing someone cared that I wasn't in the house like I was supposed to be. Where was my mom? Why didn't she care?

The dream started off on broken ground, that I only wished would be more caring. But it didn't help me. It didn't care about me, no matter how sacred I made it in my mind.