"Wake up, wake up." I tell myself so often, when my nightmares become too real. My body jolts forward as I gasp for breath, panting in pitch black air. I see myself drowning in a sea of incompetence. I see myself trying to hold onto something that does not exist, my fingertips curled as I claw at the air in front of me. Not some time ago, I had been reveling on the fact my dreams were always so much better than when I was awake. I'd sleep for hours, and feel somewhat despondent upon awakening. Now, I can't be so sure. Asleep, awake, it feels the same. My lungs fill with water as my chest caves in, I'm alive, I can feel it, I can see my breath escape on a cold winter morning. I know what it's like to feel directionless. I feel it every day. Trains rattle like tin cans in the distance. Sometimes I feel your presence around me, above me, within me.  Everything reminds me of you and it is inescapable.