Inside

  I don’t know what it is about the night. It only happens at night. During the day everything’s fine. I guess that could be because there are things to occupy the mind. But what do you do at night? Unless you can watch infomercial after infomercial, there’s nothing on TV. Unless you watch a movie good enough to keep your mind off things, you always find a way to get back to thinking about it. Some nights you’re lucky enough to be drunk, and sleep occurs within 5 minutes of flopping onto your bed. But on a normal night, your bed’s never comfortable enough, you can’t find the right way to place the pillow between your head and the sheets, and your mind always wonders back to the same thing. Her.

  It’s only during the night that you realize your bed can fit two. It’s only during the night that nothing but her is on your mind. At first, you try to keep your thoughts pleasant, how she would fit perfectly between your arm and your bed, how it’s not a big deal if the sun rises before you both fell asleep. But there is always some point where things turn on you. Somewhere inside of your wishful thinking and false hopes is reality. You realize it’s his arm she’s under. It’s six a.m. at his place before there are dreams.

  When the harsh reality sets in, there is only one thing you can do. Live. You know deep in the back of her mind she wishes it was you. You know that every time she sees you, she’s going to wonder ‘what if?’. And that’s all you can do. Hope. Because it’s still too early for reality to kick in.