I've had three dreams in my life that I can remember well, and it's because they are all recurring dreams and they all impacted my way of thinking about the world.
The most significant one goes like this:
I'm about 18 or so in the dream (I was probably 14 at the time irl), and I have all the wisdom and strength of my dad, but I'm me, and the concept is staggering to me. I'm also a well-established person, a knight of some rank, and people admire and respect me. There's a girl dressed in white with blond hair that falls in 3/4 curls around her radiant face. She's everything to me, and I would die for her.
Villian arrives, kills her.
I fail to kill the villian (the fight was epic, with me as a leaping, shining Dragoon and him using all manner of vile magics and curses) and he curses me to live forever until I drink a certain potion, which he puts in his pocket. Then he disappears* and the rest of the dream is an epic story about me fighting insurmountable odds to find the villian, kill him and reclaim the ability to die and rejoin my beloved.
That was a deep night.
The second and third most significant dreams ever are me as an overweight kid with an inhaler battling Mummies in a maze (?) and me battling a werewolf in a house. Those dreams I had in sequence on the same night: I had them each separately again later, but in both dreams I defeated some horrifically scary monster by becoming a more horrifying force or stronger opposition to the terror. Ever since those dreams I always easily defeat terrifying things in dreams, because I take control, and fly around or shoot lasers or just timetravel or do something else totally random. Hard to explain that, but I know it's due to those two dreams. My inhaler exploded mummies and I could summon brick walls when the werewolf began to chase me. I'd slam his face into a brick wall and his head and arms were outlined from the other side, like when a cartoon character slams an iron skillet into another cartoon character's face, making a positive impression on the other side. That's what happened: I slammed his face with a ton of bricks and laughing at his torment every time he started to charge through the house toward me.
Sometimes I have a dream where I talk to my dad. That is a very sad but really cool dream, and it's different each time. I hope if I ever have kids that they have a dream about me once and a while after I am gone, and I can give them weird dream advice.
"Sell all your dishes for charity!"
"This dream seems perfectly normal to me. I will do as you request, dad."
"Dig me up and toss me onto the Vatican lawn!"
* I should note at this point that this particular scene in the dream takes place inside the giant bug in the Bugmuck from Secret of Evermore, with me and my pet (who disappeared after this scene) scrambling up slippery u-shaped half-tubes to try to reach the villian. ZEN
