Awake at 3 am, wondering if she’s awake too, aching with thoughts of you. Knowing though, that she’s probably not. She’s sleeping, tangled with someone else. You look over, see a stranger next to you, and wonder what happened in your life, where did it break down this bad, and will it always be this broken.
Maybe there was a single moment, a catalyst that started it all. Or maybe it just eroded, one spec at a time. And then you realize it doesn’t really matter does it… The how. Only that it is.
Maybe tonight is just another mask. Melancholy, to go with the others. Maybe this introspection will pass and another mask slip on, and maybe this ache will pass. Too many maybe’s.
As much as I love the night, it’s never quite good to me. Torn between sleeplessness with its ugly self realizations and nightmares that rip me apart one dream at a time.
Just a little bit more, I’ll lie awake here… wondering if she’s laying there awake too, aching over me. On the surface, the selfish mask hopes she is. But down deeper, beneath the masks, I hope she isn’t. I hope she’s sleeping peacefully, dreaming sweet dreams of anything but me.