Awake
Breathe in deeply . . . breathe out slowly . . . breathe in deeply.
Once again, despite the lulling instructions I have been repeating, my mind will not listen. My eyes pop open to stare into the darkness that they refuse to assimilate to. The sound
of the whirling fan mixes with the hum of the radio, both of which meant to entice me into retiring. Neither one accomplish their goal. I try in vain to convince my mind to float into a slumbering state; however, it simply wants to float elsewhere. Faces and names, moments in time, words said; words not said; what-if, if-only, could have, should have, would have. It seems to have forgotten that ten hours ago it was too tired to operate, now overloaded by caffeine meant to induce a functioning state it is too wired to sleep. So instead, I think.
Each minute that passes is a minute I will lust after in the mid- afternoon with eyelids that will be as heavy as bad news at Christmas. My body has long since resigned itself, and here I lie, tucked in tight with the sheets to my neck. I toss, carefully, so as to not wake him; his breathing is steady and slow, and
he is lost in the land that I cannot find. I snuggle in, fluff the pillow, and close my eyes. I pretend that I am asleep. I feel my consciousness start to fall deeper, deeper, and I disconnect from reality and drift toward the coveted prize. A jolt, then once again, the wide, open eyes probing the darkness around me.
I sigh.
Breathe out slowly . . . breathe in deeply . . . breathe out slowly ...