Torturous Dreams

So I've been having dreams about my mother lately. Vivid dreams. But I can't quite remember them when I wake.

Last night it seemed if I was having a psychotic break in my dreams because I was talking to her and doing things with her and then I remarked or knew somehow that she was a ghost. And still she laughed. And I don't really remember but I just miss her terribly.
Then I was invoking Trustworthy T. And later he called, all in the dream of course. And I was amazed that he called and he was calling a wrong number- or pretending to- and at once, I recognized his voice. I wondered at how he had my number and then realized that Mom had kept my line for business. I don't know why: she just did. And he spoke about his life, that he had a plumbing company-very small-that he was hoping would make it. And how his life was so good now. And it was because he had no pain. He had finally exorcised his demons and was free from pain. Something like, I should try it and it was the easiest thing in the world: to be pain free.
And in my dream, I could hear myself saying something really bitchy, but then stopping and tempering my voice and telling him, good for you. I'm glad.
And as I left my parents' house where I grew up and where they no longer live, I saw him trying his old tricks, trying to follow me. And that's where the dream gets all retarded and I'm leading him - not really - on a high speed chase.

Some back story.
Trustworthy T was not trustworthy. He was tortured. He had a tortured soul. And my soul rushed to soothe his. This, of course, cannot be done and many years did his soul, his being, torment mine.
Also: he was a dick. A right asshole.
He was the closest thing I have had to a boyfriend and yet, he wasn't my boyfriend.
He was abusive. And a drunk. Oh, and don't forget, mentally ill. He had crazy ideas and in high school and after, I ate them up.
In the beginning, he called all the girls, "Doll." Heartrendingly adorable. He wore sunglasses, Ray-bans, all the time, even at night. He was small and smoldering. Dark hair, dark eyes.
And I wanted desperately, needed desperately, to be in his life. We became inseparable.
Through the years, once I finally, finally ended it. I've demonized him. I'm not sure it is fair but he is not the hero in my story. And he was one abusive fuck.
And I was addicted.

I've effectively hidden from him for years - but then with home ownership and the ever-connected web, I'm sure he knows exactly where I am. And it is entirely possible that he's watched me. But, at this point, I doubt that he would even care to do as much. He used to stake out and be a right effective stalker but I am sure I am not his prey. Not anymore.
He's threatened more than once to kill my parents, to kill me. And I told him I would never have the strength to leave him again but I did, finally, and this time it stuck.

My chest feels heavy and tightly coiled. And the sadness is heavy, heavy.

And the reality probably is
He is probably happy and well. Good for him.
And I am not. Sad for me.

Let him be happy -- far away from me.
But don't I deserve some happiness? What should I do to find it? To release this pain inside my chest?