Trippin Travel Dream

This is yet another one of my reoccurring theme dreams. I have a lot of dreams in which I travel to exotic and not so exotic locales. I attribute the travel theme to the time that I spent travelling abroad and my over all continuing desire to travel.

I was a youth again, perhaps 16 or so. I was about to embark on a journey with a group of friends. A cast of both young men and women and Connie a mother figure from real life.
As the dream begins, I am talking to a boy with copper hair and deep dark eyes. We are standing in the hall of a hostel, he is about to walk down the hall to retire for the evening into the large room the boys occupy. Ms. Connie watches us talking in the hall with a smile of approval on her lips. I bid him adieu and walk away. I watch as Ms. Connie follows him around the corner. She returns in a moments time with an envelope. I tear it open hastily, it i s a letter addressed to me from the boy declaring his love for me. I feel blissful and content with this confirming what I already knew. I retire to the room with the other girls and I show them the letter. One of them is laughing as she says,"his hand did not write this." I believe her for some reason. As we are all going through our luggage together making sure that we have every thing required fro the next leg of our journey. I do not know if it is that I am unprepared but although I want to be with him I have no desire to continue. I watch them all leave and I am standing outdoors in the cool air surrounded by vast darkness. There are fields and immense dimly lit houses. I put my thumb out hoping a car will pass, I see headlights but always in a distance they never get to where I am. I look across the way and suddenly see what I think may be a church but as I walk closer towards it it appears to be a homeless shelter. I walk in and it is brightly lit and filled with people and i notice that it is in fact a laundromat. I watch people as they wash their clothes. I am facing a wall of dryers, and I begin to put a few items of clothing in myself. As I am doing this I notice that there are already some clothes in there. The person does not mind and we dry our clothes together. Then I look up and see a train conductor and the laundromat starts to move and it is not a train but a bus. I wonder where I am going but I am not afraid. The end.
Go ahead and psychoanalyze that one people. I dare you!