Black Onions

I can't stop my teeth from chattering as I sleep. I think it must be strange to do that, but I'm having a good time with it. (Actually, I'm not sure if this is a dream).

My mother comes and gets me to take me to Subway. I don't want to eat, but I finally see that all of the ingredients look delicious. There are onions, similar to red onions, but shiny and black. As I am about to order she turns to me and says sternly, "What did you do with the couch?"
I reply, "I don't have a couch! Do you think I could fit one in my apartment?"
She looks annoyed and says, "There was a couch outside Jenny, and you know it."
I am silent. I know nothing about any couch.
She takes me into a nearby Bartell's and I wander the aisles, wondering what I'm supposed to be buying. In one aisle, a man is looking at plastic cases of some sort. The packaging says, "Perfect aesthetic for artists!" Curious, I look closer and see that it is some sort of lunch box. No, it is a camera case, and it comes in all different shapes for different cameras. All are very attractive shiny white plastic with black detailing.

Back at home I find a note in my bed from the boy who was there. It is divided into three sections. The first is addressed to Kathryn, which is surprising. It says he's sorry for falling in love, but he's had to leave on a mission, and something about the Palestinians. The second part is addressed to the Palestinians. It seems to be some kind of directions, but I skip over it, eager to see what he wrote to me, because I think he was supposedly in love with me. It begins "Dear Jenny," and I concentrate very hard on every word after that so I will be sure to understand what it says.
"I... hope... haven't" I can't make any sense out of the individual words, because they don't seem to be in the right order. It says, "I hope that I haven't you caused to have -"
Even with the terrible grammar, I almost manage to make sense of it, but wake up before I see the rest of the sentence.