I've had enough of nightmares. It's bad enough that I've been hurt in real life, but do I really have to be tormented every night by the same things in my sleep? Enough, please. I think I must've been traumatised. What was the big secret that I wasn't supposed to know about? Was I the big secret that no one else was supposed to know about? Enough. I find it sad to think that love nowadays has been reduced to casual and convenient flights of fancy. If I could do it all over and not do it at all, I would.