My Nightmare

My nightmare begins: it's hard to say exactly when. The way I see it, as soon as my feet touch the floor. I always seem to wake up before my alarm clock. Sleep, an elusive creature of the night, one I can never seem to catch. Like a child on Christmas Eve, I never simply fall asleep, instead I struggle to stay awake, longing to receive the sweet embrace of a restful night sleep.

10:30am, my alarm sounds, but My day had already begun without even the slightest clue as to what happened to the previous day. I am here, and that is all. Time to prepare myself for the day. I can feel the day that has past, an ache that can only be quenched with an excess of liquid heaven. I imagine many start their day off the same way, that my uniqueness isn't so absolute, but the similarities end there. I am not you, and not you am I. No day is exactly the same only the way it begins. This is why starting on the right foot is always so critical.

At various times during the week I go to work, but not at the same time any day of the week. Complacency is the enemy of sanity. Eleven o'clock, Noon, one o'clock, three o'clock and five o'clock, are the varied times I begin my work day. A schedule I've grown too accustomed to.

We're all guilty of many things, one of which is thinking too much. I've devised many ways to keep my mind occupied, but the gift of time is both a blessing and a curse. It's unavoidable, but do not tempt your feelings with poisonous thoughts, they'll corrupt your mind and create spite in the best of people. The drama of your everyday life will persist to the next without fail. Work gives me ample time to think, to dwell.

At home to myself, I'm happy in my solitude, at least for awhile. With the stressors of the day gone, I'm left with myself to contemplate. I do what I can to forget, to keep my mind slipping past the point of calm. I long for sleep, but I know it will not come.

I'll lie in bed, waiting for sleep and watch as the light of the day fades into night. As the room grows darker, the shadows begin to dance from the ceiling, down the walls and onto the floor. The ceiling fan hums lowly, casting a small breeze on my bed, it's comforting, but not enough. The dark soon envelops the entire room and I'm unable to tell if my eyes are even open.

I have but one dream: it's all I can stand not to reach out and hold her. I know as soon as I do my dream will send me back. It's all I have left. Perhaps tonight I will dream you once more, but until then...My nightmare begins.