Happy and sad

In my dream the other night I was in a tiny, pretty teahouse, with lots of other girls, standing with my back against a fuchsia wall. The owner hushed us and began speaking about the teahouse's history, but the only thing I can remember is her whispering, '...this place is both happy and sad.' And that scared me so much I got on my dream-bike and rode away. I woke up to Lewis digging me out of a strange cocoon of doona and my own unruly head of hair, sweaty and confused. 

This place is both happy and sad. My head is trying to teach me things about life so profoundly true, it only makes sense in my dreams.