Man, sometimes I think this is all a big dream. Everything. The job, this town...but you seem real. You keep things...present, y'know? And even if everything that's happened is just my psychotic break and I'm drooling into a straitjacket somewhere, I'd be okay with it. I'd rather be dreaming of you than living without.
How about your dreams? How are you dealing with hell and torture and all that creepy-ass stuff?