I very rarely remember my dreams. When I do, it is because they are breathtaking.
At 3 am, I woke up in a sweat. A nightmare. It was something very private that I'm not comfortable sharing with E2. I couldn't go back to sleep. My dream was about my Real Life, a segment of it I've been trying to avoid. When we awake from nightmares, there's always a few minutes spent trying to decide what is real and what is illusion, and then the fog of terror slowly lifts from the mind. But how can the fog ever lift when the dream is something real?
The worst nightmares are the ones you can't wake up from.