It wasn't a significant other, as is usual; it was a friend. For the record, Dream Friend was trying to sell this 4-CD set Dream Me had that was largely of Lunar fangames - which I don't think exist at all, in real life? These had somehow gotten professionally published, despite having covers consisting of the logos sketched in pen on notebook paper; there were also one or two representatives of other franchises like Panzer Dragoon or Breath of Fire or something in there. Anyhow, Dream Friend was like, hey, it's all right if I sell your fangame set to cover my bills, right? (they were already halfway through the sales process before they asked, IIRC), and I was like, no, and then I got to wondering if they'd stolen or sold anything else of mine on the sly to take care of their financial problems when the dream ended.
Like most reasonable people, I had always considered being mad at someone for something that happened in a dream ridiculous. The thing I'd overlooked, through: dreams are a product of your subconscious, and the reason why you get so mad at your dream friends' antics is because they're illustrative - metaphorically if not literally - of something their real selves are actually doing.
