Another night spent welcoming the morning.
An empty glass begging to be refilled. No thought consumes my mind more than the anxiety of an empty glass.
He begs to go to bed. Not in words, but in actions. This divide is causing issues I don’t know how to solve.
“I’m used to it”, he says. “I expect it now.”
Sleep has become my most feared part of the day. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because of the fear of committing to tomorrow.
For so long now, the idea of tomorrow has been unwelcome. For equally as long, I’ve been terrorized by nightmares in my sleep.
It’s now past midnight. Today has once again turned into tomorrow. Yet still, I fear closing my eyes. Committing to sleep…to whatever the nights evils has in store for me.
I owe it to him to try.
But I owe it to myself to hide. Or…do I? Does that just make it worse? Does facing the demons behind my dreams mean anything?
What does sleep do for me, really, if I can replace it with alcohol and coffee?
I know that doesn’t work. I know my problems only build upon each other.
But for tonight…for this morning, this is the issue in focus.
It’s past midnight again. He’s asleep, rightfully so.
And I’m too afraid to even close my eyes.