It’s half past one in the morning and I’m hoping writing will take the words from my brain so that I can sleep.
I haven’t written a lot lately. Well, correction – I haven’t written a lot on this blog lately. I’ve been writing another one for a project I’m working on called Into the Outside. I’ve been writing essays and other assignments. I’ve been staring at blank pages.
Somewhere along the line, I’ve forgotten how to be alone without being lonely. I used to love spending time on my own, I was more than okay in my own company.
But now, I’m a little lost.
Not horribly sad, nor too stressed to function, just lost and I don’t know how to find myself again.
I miss my friends, but I don’t want to cry if I start thinking about that too much.
I long for my carefree childhood. I wish I could go back for just one more day of running around the playground, getting an ice cream with sprinkles and then going home to Granddad’s. I miss the too hot house and the jokes he used to tell.
So much for sleeping. Now there’s a lump in my throat.
Sometimes I wonder if I should share these things. Is anyone even reading this anyway?
I guess I am. And I will be when I look back on this.
I long to go back to so many moments in the past that I’ve forgotten how to move forward.
Maybe I’ll wake up and want to be in today.