The truth is I just couldn't handle it anymore. It was a long time ago now, and it's not so much of a problem anymore, but I stopped writing here for a reason. I'd always wanted to keep a dream journal, and this was my favourite of any of the blogs I have or have had. But I was haunted in my sleep. Different situations, but the same face. I think I mentioned it a couple times here, and implied that it frightened me. I talked to KC about the dreams, and called them "nightmares." Except, I lied when I said I didn't recognize the dark figure, and what was scary was that it seemed so right. Inexplicably, it felt like home. So, I stopped writing my dreams. I stopped paying attention to them and eventually, I began to hardly remember them anymore. It was good for awhile. That is something my mother is not happy about. Truthfully, neither am I.