I hate dreaming. I hate waking up and feeling so alone I could die. I used to have these dreams, I would be living my normal life and someone would come and make me feel so... needed, and wanted that finally life made sense. Then I would wake up and feel so -empty-.... I dreamed of pepole who were once very close to me... still very dear to me... but too far for me to reach anymore... and I woke feeling empty again. Maybe I'm dreaming these things because I'm finishing unpacking all my crap and finding many memories... A part of me is crumbling with every piece of my past I uncover... with every old note... with every forgotten picture... a part of me begins to wither. I feel the need to confront my past, and those in it, but how do you confront your past when it refuses to acknowledge you exsist..?