My dreams scare the bejeezus out of me. One after another, every night for weeks on end, all of them different and all of them inutterably lonely. Sometimes I don’t want to go to sleep for fear I’ll dream some new subtle horror. I don’t think I’ll sleep at all tonight.

Three days ago I imagined I was in a loft. On the wall was that dial from Howl’s Moving Castle, where you just turn it and the reality without can shift. There was a black color, too, black like darkness never really is, and I just knew I shouldn’t ever look into that reality. But one night I had a guest over and she played the violin for me. So sweet! Then I played it, and before I could warn her she was twisting the dial to the black and there was something terrible pounding against the door. Through it, slowly, came a sickly sweet monster with human hands and a human gaze but the widest forehead, the bluest eyes. I don’t know why it scared me so much, but it stayed with me throughout the day.

Two days ago I dreamt someone wanted to kill me. Typical spy-action film stuffs, with new-age miniature bullets that ripped through arteries and the like. But then the dream changed, and there was my best friend (I’m not sure who my mind meant). We were hiding out in a restaurant when all of a sudden bullets rained through the windows and the door smashed open. They shot her through the head and I woke up sweating in the dark.

Last night was the worst. It wasn’t even scary so much as it was…lonely.

I dreamt I was a mermaid, but I could walk on land as well. Then I had to make a choice, between walking on land and being free to live among humans, or swimming the rest of my life. But I was in love, and he was a mermaid like me, and we both chose the sea. Then we were swimming, and it got so dark I thought the world had caved in on itself and we were all that was left. I knew then, that even though I was content to swim the oceans, it was only because I had him. I knew he would die, and I would live the rest of eternity trapped in the blackest of seas with only myself for company. As punishment for what, I don’t know. Maybe it wasn’t even punishment; maybe my subconscious knew as well as I do that there isn’t always a reason.

This morning I woke up and stumbled through the ritual. I’ve shaken it off now, but for a while…I never, ever, want to be that lonely ever again. I’m convinced that there is no greater pain in the world than knowing, even in your dreams, that you will be utterly and completely alone for the rest of forever. Not even my fear of death can compare, and I think about that every day.

I’m terrified of going to sleep. I think I’ll stay up a while.