an image of peace.

i lay here, reading and thinking...trying to embrace the return of the insomniacal cycle that i am all too familiar with as it characterized my entire year of 09 and even before. the only new, and possibly welcoming, perspective i have of the renewed familiarity of these twilight hours is an appreciation of the sound of nothing...it is acceptable at this hour...because in every house, in every life - it is expected that 3am has a hush to it.

for no explicable reason, an image of sitting by a campfire popped in my head. a not-so-comfortable lawn chair, fire-warmed shins, crackling logs, room-temperature scotch that has given way to that euphoric mind place of too fuzzy to firmly grip reality, but not yet fuzzy enough that inhibition and reason are foregone. a journal. a pen. just me. just thoughts.

if only my mind could stop there. what a perfect setting. but, no. there is always a tailing thought, a last piece to the puzzle that is thrown in: him. how the thought of the only desired ending to the scene above is for his cold hands and long arms wrap around me; his warm scotch-ridden breath breeze over my neck. a night of peaceful sleep in protective, loving, non-judgemental arms.

which returns us to the underlying raison d'etre of lack of sleep. it is never peaceful. it brings no relief to the tiredness, no release from tension. it only awakens to a new day that i didnt ask for and frankly dont want. it awakens to another day of empty, another day of distance and longevity between now and between then.

the only thing i know, is that my being has reached its capacity of endurance. ive been struggling to prevent the dam from breaking with my fingertips and i am about to be flooded....