Its late.
I can't sleep.
It was warm today, but the house is cold. I sit crossed legged, huddled up in a big jumper belonging to my husband. He's big - slim, but tall and broad. I like wearing his clothes. It makes me feel small, almost childlike as I push the sleeves up and they fall back to cover my hands.
It's quiet.
Both inside and out. No cars passing on the road outside. No TV. No children talking in their sleep.
I contemplate today. I contemplate everyday.
Tomorrow.
I think of the future and the past.
I don't really like to think. I like to crowd out my head with so much information that there's no space for actual thoughts. Facts and figures. Concepts. Ideals. Random stuff. Big stuff. Small stuff.
Anything to block out me.
I like to fall into bed so tired from the day that I'm asleep in moments.
I like to fill my days with people and conversation. To share, discuss. Laugh.
To be the person that they see.
If enough people believe it, maybe it becomes the truth.
I want to go outside and smoke.
I don't do that anymore. I haven't for a long time.
Except recently.
Occasionally.
I want to sit outside in the sun. At a festival. Listening to music. Wasted. Watching the world go by.
I don't do that anymore.
I want to disappear. Go away. For a day, a week, a year. To go where the mood takes me. To bask in the knowledge that everyone thinks I'm somewhere else. But I'm in none of the places where they think I am.
I don't do that anymore.
I want to talk to random strangers. Search until I find the link to someone I know or have been. There's always a connection. You just have to look hard enough. Talk for long enough.
I want to play. Skip. Dance. Laugh. Jump in fountains or lakes. Off the end of a pier. Or a plane.
I want to sleep without dreams. Wake feeling rested.
I want to be somewhere else.
