Love Letter #1

Dear Insomnia,

When I told you that we needed to talk, I didn’t mean to alarm you. No, this isn’t the end of us. I feel that every so often we should be able to asses our relations… to be clear with our understanding each other—communication is critical for a tricky relationship like ours. Listen, I know you get a little jealous when I run off a few times a week with Sleep, but I need you to understand that it’s not by choice. While I’d love to confess that I would never be seeing Sleep again, I am a simple man who, as you know, falls often to the alluring sirens of the mind. I would love nothing more than to spend these nights with you over good books and warm cups of coffee.

There’s something about you that Sleep could never do for me. You create this warm dimness, in which I still retain control of my thoughts, my dreams. Sleep would never do that. She’s treacherous and loves to whisper unwanted secrets from my core. You never go digging, and I’m glad that we can respect each other’s privacy. Things both dreary and miraculous happen when we’re together. While the balance is nothing short of chaos, I think that’s a fantastic recipe for intimacy. I enjoy these nights we share, whether it’s in the cold of my dorm room or driving together for some 4 A.M. sushi, listening to the soft Jazz that the radio would play for us.

Insomnia, I hope that you can come to love and appreciate me without the changes you’ve asked for. If one of us were to change, then both of us will. I’ve tried to hate you for the red eyes and exhausted lifestyle, but one can hardly hate themselves without consequence.  We’re meant to be!

Very truly yours,

Me

Ps. I’m not trying to make you jealous, but I did see Sleep yesterday. When I did, I stopped breathing again. And she did nothing! I spent nearly an hour disoriented from the apnea. If I had stayed with you and brewed some more coffee, this wouldn’t have happened. You were right.

Read Full Post »

Firefly

Insomnia strikes again.

My alarm is set to wake me in just a few hours to get ready for a four-hour shift in the produce department. Earlier this evening, or technically last night, I learned from one of the maintenance guys that the reason why one of my coworkers is a tad more gloomy than the rest of us, is that he didn’t get the assistant manager position a few months back. I never suspected just how deep-rooted his personality was.

About an hour ago, my sister came out into the porch-room with a pink box. Inside it was a firefly that had snuck into her room through the air conditioner. She opened the glass sliding door and held the box out into the night. The fly stayed, crawling up the sides of the flimsy cardboard. After a few minutes of shaking and ridicule, it flew back into the porch and bumped into random areas of the ceiling. My sister retreated to her room and I went back to reading a Gaiman short story. At some point, I decided to shut the lamp off and try to sleep. It seemed to happen on cue, though I might have actually dozed off and been awakened by my cat jumping on my back, then off onto the floor. I raised my head to see the firefly caught between its paws. With my foot, I sort of nudged the cat away and extended my index finger for the fly to climb on. I opened the sliding glass door as his lower body began to glow an eerie yellow-green and flew away. I had never held a firefly before.

Read Full Post »