I have to stop having affairs with Belgian doctors

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They are a hazard to my health. Though admittedly, this is the first time that the affair has been with a Belgian man. A part of me knew he was married, though it was never spoken about. He flew to me more often than I am to him, but this particular visit would be made by me. The flight over was quiet, and of no consequence. I arrived at the airport and was greeted by my lover, who bundled me into his arms and laid a kiss on my forehead as I approached him. The weather was cooler than back home, but I invited the crisper temps. He brought me to the home of a colleague who I would be staying with for the month that I was in Belgium. I was given a credit card and told that I could spend as much as I'd like, provided I spent only at particular stores. A pair of shoes was given to me too, ones that were meant to make my travels around the city easier. They ended up coming in handy when I inadvertently ran into the wife of my lover, who instantly recognized me from a picture in her husband's phone. I ran in them as much as I could, but eventually had to use the feature that would get me further away the quickest. Leaning down, I pulled on the tab at the back of the sneaker and steadily rose in the air. Leaning forward propelled me faster, staying upright kept me at a steadier pace, whereas leaning back stopped my momentum entirely. Leaning back was the hardest to accomplish [][][] Then I woke up, though more things did happen within the dream. This was one of those where I had physical manifestations. I could feel my stomach cramping and hurting as I flew, and it was not pleasant.