I have been here too many times before. The ups, the downs, the unexpected tears, the unstoppable tears. Here we go again.

The dreams. Oh, the many, many dreams. I have always remembered my dreams. Since I was a child, I have been writing them down in a dream journal.

The booming thunder startled me awake as he rain pummeled down. We had not had a storm like this in a while; it was early spring. I did not want to get out of bed, not typically like me.

There is only one person who can comfort me. There is only one single person I want by my side in these treacherous times. What do you do when the only person who can comfort you is the one in the casket?

I have grieved in many ways. I have tried to escape it by running or distracting, consuming. I have isolated myself, pushing all love and support away.