Subconsciously realistic; relationships by night.

I suffer - I say suffer, sometimes they're good - from extremely vivid dreams. Last night was no different, and given my recently slightly messed up situation monetarily, I believe it delved me into something highly masochistic subconsciously. I don't remember much from the start of the dream, vaguely running across a random city with the point of reference to run to of the oldest pub which was in the far corner of said city (this city did not extend further and neither did the world in general, of this far corner. I don't know why).
Upon arriving and standing outside, I stumbled into a small fissure in the tarmac, opening up to a train/tram type system underground, much like the tram's of Manchester running in the Parisian metro system. I could not fit through this gap though my leg was caught dangling through it, and I thought I was going to loose it, as the tram's went by.
Eventually I blurrily hop forth to be stood on a platform, with many other people, some vaguely recogniseable such as my mate's dad, an older guy that used to be on the MA course while I was studying, and a lass I had a relationship with in a dream literally years ago. Now when I say relationship, the amount of time that passed within that dream subconsciously, could have been practically infinitely longer than the actual time of (probably) 6 hours or so, and so a relationship as such could be concieved within that time, and unfortunately for me, disbanded also.
Now on one side of the tracks are me, these vaguely recogniseables' and others, and on the other side is a football team. We are all here to train, it is a space utilise for gym activities (no equipment, just classes, stretching out, yoga, that sort of stuff). Now, the lass is with her Dad, she is wonderfully gorgeous, an angle forward longer-than-bob cut of thick brunette hair, around 5'9", size 10 with size 12 hips, B cup, skinny stretchy jeans, white plain tee, deep navy blue and white striped crappy cardigan with extra long arms that she had grabbed in her hands, piercing eyes chocolate brown, with a hint of darker around the outside, fading lighter in the inside towards the pupil.
The lass is with her dad, and even though we are allowed to talk, it is obvious that it is frowned upon that we interact too closely; we're holding each other's wrists, wanting to hug and make up, even though my head is telling me of the pain we've sustained previously, and what we'll be putting ourselves through once again.
Eventually the class starts with the arrival of an instructor our side, and a coach on the football side. This is the slightly more harrowing side to it all, in that part way through stretching out, the lass spots an old acquaintance in the football side, he comes across, they eventually hit it off, and I am distraught beyond belief, I had once again put all my eggs into one basket insufferably hoping that she'd take me back. The pain shines through, her eyes show that she knows what I'm going through, but she turns away to kiss this boy. I am distraught. The class carries on, I have nowhere to stretch, so reluctantly do so next to her, hoping to catch her attention possibly. She looks my way, puzzle whilst sat stretching towards her foot, and I give her a 'there's nowhere else to go' look. Eventually there's another break, Jason walks by and I say 'we're going out tonight', and he simply sniggers and says 'ok', and that's the end.
I woke up completely nerve wracked, tired, apprehensive, and ultimately wary of everyone and everything. I wrote this the instant I woke, rather than forgetting it going to the train, so now it's time to head for it.