I’ve been watching my fireflies float around the jar for a good 45 minutes now. I’ve looked at my phone wondering if you’re asleep. I’ve done that often. Unable to sleep so I pick up wanting to ask, “You up?” But, you’ve been clear enough for me to know that even if you are you aren’t up for me.
I rock back and forth hoping the sound helps me drift off to sleep. Or at least the movement would. But it doesn’t. Just like every night for what seems like eternity. My insomnia is back. In full gear. I wander around the house trying to find a way to nod off. The sounds of J and the puppies hum at me. Almost like a harmony.
You reached out today and part of me wanted relief but there isn’t any. Your words come back to me, unwelcome. Won’t push. I sigh into the darkness. Through all this I’ve learned no matter how close two people are, no matter how much they know each other, if you don’t talk things will break.
I hope, though, the break isn’t permanent.
I’ve got so much stories to tell you. My brain is on overload. Every time I started to tell you I felt like you couldn’t care less. So I stopped. And waited. And waited. And I still wait. So many things are going on. How much longer?