What can be said?

February 10, 2026,

It was a nightmare. Nothing more. 

Every night I tell myself the same thing. Maybe that's why I'm starting this journal.  It keeps happening. Over. And over. And over. Two weeks now. And it's growing stronger. It was fuzzy, just noise the first night. Oh, how I miss that feeling of ignorance.

She crushed somebody last night. I think it was her husband. Why am I always the same girl? Maybe I should be writing her story? Something about that feels... right. I could feel her pain. How she suffers that day.

But I'm not fooling myself anymore... I'm trying to convince myself...  It's just a nightmare.

My nightmare.