Fuck man. I got a story myself.
So when I was like 15 I was weird and pimply and wanted a girl bad. I had this fucking awesome dream (always had lucid dreams) that felt real. For three months in that dream I dated a girl, this redhead I met at a comic shop.
Two years later I met a redhead at a comic shop and dated her for three months. Then she dissapeared. Didn't work at the same place, didn't live at the same place, only thing that made sure she was real was that her phone still had a message machine with her voice on it. I thought I had snapped, and shortly after that I did. I thought I was in a dream and had to die to wake up, but since I'd never convinced myself to commit suicide before no matter how many times I tried it didn't happen. So I just started hurting myself and shit, real nasty. Eventually I got better and now I have real fears about not waking up from dreams.