I don't sleep much anymore. It's the same as when we first met, even though it's not the same. I used to think "alone" was an adjective, now I know it's just the state of not fitting anywhere. I don't fit anywhere. There's nowhere to call home. I hate being awake, it just reminds me you're not here. I hate being asleep, it just reminds me that I'll wake up. I don't write much anymore. I have nothing left. Words can't describe the pounding in my head, or the emptiness in my bones. So when you ask, "What's wrong?", I don't have much to say besides, "I don't sleep much anymore."