I thought I was telling the truth, but I wasn't.  Not completely.

I am afraid of having dreams, it's true.  God, so much.  I can't even tell what it's like to feel like those are waiting for me.  

I live with a monster I'm afraid of waking up.

The worst part is that no matter what it does, how often it attacks me, how much blood it draws, it won't kill me.  I'll still be there for more.

I haven't had a good dream in so long.  But I remember what they're like.  So fragile.  Flighty. Indifferent.  If I move or blink or a breeze blows by, it'll fly away and won't come back no matter how still and quiet I lie.

Nightmares care. They're just so glad to be with you.  Even if you manage to get away, they're so polite.  They think you only had to step away for a moment.  They're more than happy to wait for you to come back.

They'll wait forever for you.  

I was reading one of Cam's magazines today.  It had a cartoon of this man lying in bed, trying to fall asleep.  Over his head was this thought bubble. There were a bunch of sheep in it, waiting to jump that fence sheep always leap in cartoons when someone's trying to fall asleep.  But these sheep weren't jumping.  They were cowed, cowering.  The man thinking them looked pretty cowed himself.  On the other side of the fence was a grinning wolf.  Just waiting for the feast.

I'm going to show that to Cam.  Maybe he'll stop bugging me.