Dream Log #1

It's not very often that I wake up in the morning with the memory of an important dream I've had the night before. Of course I dream, but not all of them hold significant meaning when thinking them over the next day or even the following week. The recurring nightmare I had when I was young about the quacking zombie-duck, for instance, most likely had little to do with my life's journey. (Or perhaps I'm just terrible with analyzing and don't see the real reasoning - either way, I don't think it's the same.) But the past couple of nights have left me feeling as though my dreams have a much deeper meaning than my former zombie-duck experiences. For example, the dream I had two nights ago went something like this:

I was living in my old house with my family, but I never actually remember seeing the front half of the house. The majority of the dream took place in the back hall, where my bedroom and bathroom were located. Throughout the dream, the absolute main focus was the bathroom. Why? I'm still not entirely sure. I remember feeling a weird sensation each time I walked into the room, but always attempting to brush it off in order to avoid acknowledging the fact that something was out of the ordinary. This happened a few times, then it took a strange turn. I was standing in the shower - washing my hair and once again choosing to ignore the weird sensation that made it feel as though there were sets of eyes watching me from each direction I wasn't facing. But within a few minutes, the feeling became more and more overwhelming and I couldn't take the uneasiness. I stopped what I was doing, looked around the shower and asked out loud: "What do you want from me?" Out of nowhere, a little girl appeared and wrapped herself around me. But the girl wasn't alive like you and I are now - she was mist. A figure that almost seemed transparent, but gave enough energy to make it so that I could clearly see her shape. She was colorless, but I could make out that she was wearing a long dress and had equally long hair. I never saw her face, since it was dug into my side. I don't know whether the girl actually spoke, or if I could just magically understand her response, but I instantly understood what she wanted. She feared being by herself, and she was scared that she would be lost and alone forever without ever receiving a helping hand or sympathy. I immediately put my hand on her head and promised to be her help and company whenever she felt lost. The promise seemed to be all that was needed in order to make her negative emotions fade. Before I had time to do anything else, the girl was once again invisible, and I stood alone in the shower. I reached for the shower curtain in order to pull it to the side, but it slowly began to slide itself to one end of the rod without my touch. I knew that it was the girl's way of helping me and showing appreciation for the way I had helped her. I thanked her out loud, then the feeling of her presence disappeared and I could tell that she had found somewhere else to be with her new-found acceptance.

And that was the entire dream. It doesn't sound like a life-altering scenario, but there was something about the happiness throughout me after I had helped the girl find her way that made it seem special. Even stranger, was the strong sense that I knew the girl. Even though I never got to see her face, I woke up feeling as though I had been holding a family member. I couldn't even tell you her name or what color eyes she had, but I know we were connected in some way. I just couldn't explain to you what it was. I don't know if I'll ever fully understand what it meant or symbolized, but that dream has definitely held a tighter grasp on my thoughts than any other dream before it. So there must be something special.