I tuck everyone into bed the same time every night. They all drift off so easily, and my hope is that they will make it peacefully to the morning light.
I spend the next bit of time wrapping up the day. Unwind a bit. Tend to the final chores that will give me a small sense of accomplishment so that I can tell myself that the day wasn’t a complete waste.
Too much of life feels wasted.
Not in the sense that anything happening is necessarily bad by nature. But how did it get to be the middle of October already again.
This is the tape that plays in my head night after night.
Now it is my turn to find the pillow. I wonder if I’ll make it. If they will let me.
See, the demons come to play around the same time every slumber.
It’s about two o’clock in the morning when they start dancing around.
Sometimes it makes me angry, “Why the hell won’t you let me sleep?”
Most of the time a fear possesses me. It’s a reminder that everything I touch seems to fall apart. People say that I’m too hard on myself, and maybe they are right. I am sure there is plenty about me to love.
But when the devil and his minions show up as I lay alone in the dark, there is only me to contend with them.
Will I die like this?
Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. It doesn’t matter if its in 40 years. I feel like these sleepless nights are the hell that I will enter into permanently after I offer my last breath.
I should just learn to dance with them now. Conquer the fear. Drink their spirits. Find warmth next to their fire.
Maybe that is the secret to not dying alone.
Finding comfort in the presence of those who have always been with me, who take the time to visit at 2am.