Darkness at 3 AM
I remember darkness at 3 AM. Pacing back and forth in my living room. Never wanting to retire. I hated how long the days were and how short the nights were. I dreaded being awake. I dreaded having the thought of living another day just like the one today. It was as if when you left, all the light have been ripped out of my days. days turned into months and my early acceptance offers for universities. have been taken out. Months turned into years and I wasn’t even aware of how many class photographs I had missed out on. Days turned into months and I couldn’t get myself appear in life events. In milestones. I couldn’t write. I couldn’t paint. I couldn’t run. I couldn’t get up. I couldn’t get up to start living. I couldn’t get up to pick up all the broken pieces. Pieces of myself. I couldn’t sleep as much as I never wanted to wake. no no. I never wanted to sleep. Sleep only meant that another day would come. Another day that doesn’t include us. Another day that didn’t include you. But nobody ever understood. Everybody else thought I loved sleep so much that I would be willing to skip classes for it. That I loved sleep so much I’d trade my education for it. That I loved to sleep so much I would trade spending time with my friends for it. No. Nobody ever understood how much I hated sleep. I welcomed the darkness at 3 AM but hated the sunrise that came after this darkest hour. I had wished the world stopped at 3 AM. alone with my thoughts. Darkness at 3 AM was the only place that allowed me to sulk. To fall and crumble down. Everything and everybody else were expecting the good girl who excelled in everything. But this darkness accepted and nurtured me. And when my own body betrayed me wanting to rest. I had wished it would want to rest forever. Rest forever or just until the pain was gone. I hated sleep but when I slept I had wanted it forever. Just until everything was normal. But normal never came. No. You never came back.