It looks the same.
The same as any other night, lights off, dog barking in a nearby house. No changes. Same white ceiling, same feeling of optimism and hopelessness.
The clock reads 3:00AM, ten minutes since the last time you looked.
There’s no tossing and turning, no constant drip from a leaky faucet. Nothing. Only darkness and your own thoughts to keep you company.
Thoughts of adventure, thoughts of monotony. Thoughts of opportunity, thoughts of stagnation. Thoughts of happiness, thoughts of sadness. Thoughts of love, thoughts of loss.
You want to run, be free, feel alive. You want to remember. You want to forget.
More thoughts, more memories. What was, what is, what will be.
High hopes for tomorrow, the unknown, the possible. Longing for the past, the familiar, the impossible.
You try to remember the last time you fell asleep easily, could stop the thoughts in your head long enough to dream.
You think of tomorrow. Think of what could be, what will be. A certain sense of content envelopes you, embraces you.
Reflection, nostalgia, growth.
A Toast: To Sleepless Nights