Usually, I would not be writing at this late hour. Usually, I would be asleep. Lately, however, I have not been sleeping well. I know exactly why, but I am not going to tell you—at least, not exactly. Some hopes and dreams are so insane, that I'd best keep them to myself for fear of being institutionalized.
Falling asleep is a funny thing. Lying there, all alone in the dark and quiet, you can no longer hide. All of the thoughts you’ve been keeping at bay with work and conversation and television suddenly assault you. You become vulnerable to all your fears and, even worse, your hopes. Those hopes that your mind fends off such dangerous mirages when you're awake.
As you finally drift through your thoughts to your dreams, sleep becomes a welcome relief. Sometimes I remember my dreams, but other times, I have only a vague sense of a feeling. This is probably a good thing. Night terrors, I can handle. Waking up and realizing that a beautiful moment was only a dream… that’s a real nightmare.
Lately, I wish I knew that my life would be okay eventually. Maybe then, I could sleep peacefully. Not even my Malkin shirt has been working (even if it is probably as close as I'll ever get to sleeping with a hockey player). I’m tired. Life will not cease its relentless march of malevolence merely because I didn’t get a good night’s sleep. Now, to sleep, perchance to dream, I must go.
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