4am

Today is a big day. In fact, today is a very very big day, and I’ve been rather worried about it since I found out it was going to happen.

Last night, after a night of tears and pain, and heartache as some things happened that I know have disappointed my best friend, and more importantly, myself, a few really good and exciting things happened in the last fifteen minutes or so before I tried to sleep. I slipped into sleep easily, and for once, my sleep (until now at least) has been easy, deep, and dreamless.

Now, it’s 4am and I’m staring at the ceiling with a racing heartbeat. I’m feeling a little sick but that’s probably because I’m hungry. I don’t like to put a word or the name of an emotion to my current feeling, because I’m not sure there is one. I’m just feeling rather empty. Blank, I suppose you could say. It’s black, it’s dark, and nothing’s moving around in my brain.

I’m not trying to come to terms with today. What’s the point? It won’t make things any easier. It’ll just make me cry again, and I can’t afford that, with a 9am lecture.

Whilst I don’t like to think about what I want either, those thoughts are much harder to keep from my mind. It has always been easy to just build up my wall, and pretend it’s all okay. One of my friends once told me that life is just a big mess of pretend, and whilst at the time, I didn’t think I could lie to myself, I’ve come to realise that actually, I’ve been doing it for quite a lot of my life. Wants however, are much stronger than feelings. You must remember that feelings are colours and patterns to me, and I must try to convert that into words. Wants and desires are very different, I don’t have to concentrate, and so it’s much easier for those to invade my mind.

Right now, I want only one thing. I want someone to appear out of the darkness, and I want them to crawl under the duvet with me, wrap their arms around me, and whisper that it’ll all be okay. I want that person to be someone quite specific. And it’s not going to happen. It’s sadly, an impossibility.

So, I’ll wait out the hours till I must get up, and face the day. If I’m lucky, sleep will wash over me once more, if I’m not, I’ll simply have to lie here, staring at the ceiling, and wait until my guard breaks, and one by one, the emotions prod, poke, and stab me, until there’s nothing left.

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