4:20 am
Can't sleep.
I remember how we discussed getting high on that bumpy car ride home with the windows rolled down and the AC cranked up to the max.
4:30 am
Can't sleep.
"Mom, I've been up all night."
Too embarrassed to admit that I was talking to Beloved, I throw my head back and wash away a neon pink pill with a gulp of water.
4:35 am
Can't sleep.
My tense body is screaming for you to be here to relieve the aching of my muscles that are far too overworked and far too exhausted.
Even despite the fact that I spend my days wasting away in a relationship with a bed that doesn't even know my favourite colour.
4:40 am
Can't sleep.
Restless because I miss him.
Restless because I have him.
Realizing that my inability to sleep spawns from the lack of motivation to exist the way I'm supposed to.