Nightmares

I miss them.

The waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, seized by illogical fear.
Finding comfort in numbers, in the flicker of the television screen and the sleeping forms of family.

I miss the dawning realization that it isn't real, and talking yourself into falling back asleep.

I miss the sweaty palms, the beating heart, the shaking hands, the panic and the courage that arises from it. I miss the knife wielding murderess coming after me to finish the job of destroying my family, blood spattered and insane, deadly and crazed.

I should watch scary movies and see if they return.