I don't remember a night's sleep without dreams. They have always been a big part of me, an evidence of an active subconscious that surfaced to play in my mind, only to retreat at the first rays of light that filtered in. They have always remained just out of reach, fragments of them reluctantly coming back through the day. But I have always known what the mood of the dream was by how I am waking up. I do not remember having nightmares, ever. Maybe a nude embarrasment or two but nothing to make to toss and turn and break out into a sweat. What I love about the experience (and it is one) is when I wake up and remember exactly what happened in the dream. So close, it seems to be to actuality, that the emotions that went with the event that never happened are more than real.
Guess I never thought I would save her, see he wake up from that deep sleep she was never going to wake up from, never thought I would talk to him again and hear his voice like he was never gone.